


The Misfits

by 89JadedPictures



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Multi, Post-War, Smut, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:23:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 77,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/89JadedPictures/pseuds/89JadedPictures
Summary: Harry and Hermione stumble upon Draco and Pansy in the astronomy tower, both couples planning on drinking away their woes before their decisions turn into a secret tryst that will help these "perfect misfits" deal with their lives.





	1. Saturday Night

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the band Misfits.

Harry and Hermione had not expected to find Draco and Pansy in the Astronomy Tower the Saturday night after school began on their seventh and final year.

The four had decided to finish their educations; though the two Gryffindors had not known that the two Slytherins had decided to do so, and vice versa. When the two, with their green ties, had walked into the Great Hall, Hermione and Harry had turned to one another with wide eyes, before turning back to the Slytherins to watch as they sat at the end of their house table; their backs to the Gryffindors, though they could see that Draco, surprisingly, still commanded the majority of the Slytherins’ respect.

Nearly every student at the Slytherin table nodded to them as they sat, all but the first years, who cowered as Draco looked at them nonchalantly. 

The blonde, though he had dealt with a month in Azkaban before Harry, Hermione, and Ron had testified on his behalf (a month ago), looked good, as if he had completely recovered from any and all physical and mental torture he’d endured over the years as his father’s platinum doormat.

Draco had been released almost instantly upon the Golden Trio, as the press had begun to call them, all agreeing he should be pardoned. Almost two months later, as he walked through the large double doors of the Great Hall, his arrogant air had been undoubtedly assured- unmistakably untouchable- he looked completely unscathed as he and Pansy slid into their seats.

He was still the King of Slytherin, and she was still his Queen.

Pansy’s family had refused to be a part of the war, and had been pardoned from any and all trials or persecution. To see Pansy alongside Draco only meant that the Pureblood community still held his family name in high regard. He was still their King, only made more obvious by the witch who trailed him.

That meant a lot to both Gryffindors as they watched the pair settle in and begin to eat; bright green meeting chocolate brown with raised brows and concerned gleams.

“He came back?” Hermione discreetly asked Harry under her breath, who shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t know what to think of this, just as much as Hermione, who had been positive she’d never encounter the Malfoy man again.

They would have never guessed that he would return… not ever. And they would have never guessed that they would catch the two Slytherins sitting at the top of the Astronomy Tower, both of their legs hanging over the edge as they passed a bottle of whiskey between them, talking in whispers, leaning in toward one another for support, smoking cigarettes.

Upon hearing them overhead, Hermione and Harry having walked through the silencing charm, taking advantage of muffling charmed shoes, walked up the stairs to see what the two had been up to.

It seemed the Slytherins had been thinking the same thing as the Gryffindors; Harry grabbing the bottle of whiskey from Hermione that the two had been drinking from during their trip to the tower, before saying,

“Hey.”

The Slytherins jumped a bit, grabbing onto the ledge, and one another, to keep them from falling from shock, and they turned to look at the Gryffindors with wide eyes before they lowered their lids into glares.

“Hey,” Pansy said, her voice cautious, low, but not threatening or angry, despite her face being pulled into one of displeasure.

“Mind if we sit with you?” Harry asked, causing Hermione to look at him with widened eyes as the three shocked students watched Harry walk to sit on the other side of Pansy; the witch staring at her rival house schoolmate as he settled next to her, opened the bottle in his hand, and drank from it.

Hermione, who had suggested she and Harry go up to the Astronomy Tower and deal with some issues, was not expecting to deal with the issues that came with talking to Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. It had been newly added to her list of things to do, what with their return to school, but it had been somewhere near the bottom; not at the top as it now was. The witch had to kick herself, because they hadn’t checked the Marauders Map to see if they would have company in the tower, assuming no one would dare visit it so soon.

But the Gryffindor woman, ever courageous, especially when facing adversity was involved, decided to sit on the other side of Draco, and reached out and took the whiskey he had been holding. While drinking straight from the bottle, she looked at his shocked expression, and it was then that she noticed the telling signs of tears on the blonde’s face.

She almost spit out her booze as she noticed this, and Harry leaned forward to look at her, ignoring the fact that he was sitting on that fateful ledge, only concerned by the fact that his friend had made an odd noise.

For a moment, Harry thought that Draco had done something, or said something he couldn’t hear past the breeze; but he noticed, as the blonde turned away from his friend, that the moon was illuminating the tear stains on the Slytherin man’s face, and he had turned away from Hermione to hide it…

Which only aided in Harry seeing it, and Pansy noticing they noticed, and Draco noticing that they all knew what he’d been doing, and he jumped to his feet in a flash to leave.

“Draco!” Harry and Pansy yelled in unison, sparing a glance at one another as they both stood to chase after the fleeing man. Hermione stood, not really knowing what to do, the whiskey she almost spit up burning in her nose and throat as she watched the raven-haired pair make after the blonde.

All Hermione could think was, ‘He’s… crying…’

She’d never seen Draco cry before; she’d seen him on the verge of tears at the battle, and he showed little sign of fear or sadness when he’d sat on trial before them. Now, in the intimacy of the ashen, haunting tower, the man had decided to cry on the shoulder of his best friend, just as Hermione and Harry had planned on doing.

“Draco! Stop!” Harry yelled as he began to make down the stairs, aware of the sound of Pansy’s high heeled footsteps close behind him. “I don’t care if you’re crying. I was coming up here to do the same thing! So stop, and share a fucking drink with me, mate.”

Harry was aware of Pansy stopping in her advance on the stairs as Harry began to talk to Draco on the lower landing; the moonlight falling in through the cracks above, illuminating the blonde like some dark Patronus. 

The two men stared at one another in silence as Draco stopped in his exit, turning to look back at Harry and Pansy… and Hermione, who stood behind the shorter Slytherin witch.  
Hermione had heard everything as she followed the group; Draco’s whiskey still in hand, and his discarded cigarette between her lips. She looked down at them- taking a drag, pulling away, exhaling- all as she watched Draco turn to look at her lover and fellow Head, the two men staring each other down as Hermione stepped to stand next to Pansy.

The raven-haired woman looked over, and their brown eyes locked as Hermione nodded her head once at Pansy, saying in a whisper,

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Pansy responded, giving a nod of her own head, before the witches turned back to the wizards.

“I-“ Draco stammered, letting his eyes fall from Harry’s as Hermione noticed the silver glare fall into an expression of defeat, “-I don’t want to cry with you, Potter.”

“Get over it!” Hermione said loudly, the booze hitting her stomach, causing her Gryffindor courage to blast through the roof, “We get it! You fucked up. Big deal! But we all fucked up! We all have baggage, and we are all too fucking grown up to allow any more of Voldemort’s past shite to bleed into our presents… Or our futures.

“Your parents are in prison, Harry’s are dead, I wiped my parent’s memories, and they don’t remember who the fuck I am… and Pansy here decided that handing “The Chosen One” over was a capital idea. Now get over it, Draco, and have a drink with us.” Hermione threw her cigarette butt on the floor by Harry, who stepped to put it out without looking away from the other man. “And give me another fag, would you?” Draco looked up at her with a quizzical expression, and she said, “I’m drinking, and I only smoke when I drink… so hand them over.”

Harry looked up at his lover, who stood next to Pansy on the stairs; the usually vocal woman standing still and quiet as she watched this all transpire. As Harry’s eyes met the Slytherin woman’s, she blinked at him for a moment, before she set her face in determination and made down the stairs to Draco.

The Gryffindors watched as Pansy grabbed Draco by the hand, the blonde’s face downcast once more, and she pulled him past Harry and toward the stairs where the Slytherin passed Hermione his pack of cigarettes during his ascension.

Hermione turned to Harry, who shrugged, and she gave him a half smile in return as they ascended themselves.

(Saturday Night)  
And I can remember when I saw her last  
We were running all around and having a blast  
But the back seat of the drive-in  
Is so lonely without you  
I know when you're home  
I was thinking about you,  
There was was something I forgot to say  
I was crying on a Saturday night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are 65 chapters to this fic. I will be working on posting all of them over the course of the next week. Read and review, and I will post more chapters sooner. Ta.


	2. Don't Open 'Til Doomsday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank my BETA, I_was_BOTWP, for being a bad ass.

The Slytherin pair had watched as the Gryffindors had walked onto the platform and boarded the Hogwarts Express.

They had looked to one another, not happy that their suspicions had been confirmed; they would have to deal with seeing two of the Golden Trio during their final year at school.  
They had heard of Ronald Weasley becoming an Auror, and neither blamed him for being unable to return to Hogwarts. The Slytherins had boarded the train first, early that morning, with the plan to secure a compartment from which to watch others without being seen. They hadn’t seen the Weaselette, causing Pansy to absently wonder aloud what the girl had planned to do...

Draco, who had never shown much interest in the youngest Weasley, had thrown in his two cents, absently suggesting that she couldn’t face the old school either- all of their Gryffindor courage used up- and she probably worked with George. 

Neither Slytheirn went to the Weasley’s joke shop, seeing as neither felt comfortable showing their face in the establishment.

Though Draco knew that the wizarding world had agreed with the Golden Trio’s testimony on his behalf, and he had been released, he hadn’t had the urge to go into public. He sat in the Manor, and it would have been alone if it hadn’t been for Pansy; showing up every day for a week before she started staying the night, the two shagging away their problems.

When Headmistress McGonagall had sent them their Hogwarts letters, announcing the two as Slytherin Prefects, they had been consumed with fits of wide-eyed, gaping-mouthed shock; neither even considering returning until they awoke to the sound of the owl at the window. 

Especially not with the status of Prefect! 

It had forced the two to talk about it, deciding that returning was in the best interest to their futures. They both had planned to go to university after Hogwarts, but they thought those dreams dashed by the war. It had taken some convincing on Pansy’s part, but she had told Draco she’d return to Hogwarts with him, and stay by his side as his emotional support. 

When the two Slytherins attended the Head/Prefect meeting with Potter and Granger as Head Boy and Girl, Pansy had had to push Draco through the doorway; the short meeting passed with the four avoiding one another. Until the end, where, with an awkward air between the two men, Potter had given Draco their round schedules.

It was because of this schedule that the two Slytherins had ended their duties in the secluded tower; talking, drinking, and smoking as they opened up to one another for the hundredth time in the past months, all their previous years now seemed filled with nothing more than fickle fondling and impersonal conversations.

They hadn’t heard the two Gryffindors approach, and they hadn’t expected for the two to bear their souls as easily as one would read a book aloud. It had stopped the Slytherins in their tracks, Draco more so than Pansy, the witch grabbing her courage and forcing the blonde to go back up the stairs; the four resuming their spots from minutes earlier, passing each other whiskey and smoking Draco’s cigarettes. 

Finally, after a few minutes of half-uncomfortable silence, Harry said,

“You know… I would have never thought that I could ever face this place again. But I’m glad you’re here,” Harry leaned back, and put his hand on Draco’s shoulder to push him lightly, his arm brushing along Pansy’s shoulders as he did so.

Pansy shuddered at the contact, and she tried to believe that it was the wind.

Draco shuddered at the contact, and he tried to believe that it was the wind as he turned to lean forward and look at the raven-haired man; his green eyes sparkling in the moon light, his black hair falling in front of his black spectacles in a way Draco liked. It looked like mischief, which had always been something the blonde had enjoyed partaking in.  
The Malfoy man, who had been crying only minutes before, ignored the fast beating in his heart as he first looked back to Pansy before looking back to Harry and responding,

“I am too…”

Silence befell them all once more, but only for a minute before Hermione passed Draco the bottle, saying rather loudly,

“I would say I was happy you’re here, Malfoy, but I’m only mildly amused by your presence,” the bratty witch waved her hand, and a lit cigarette, indifferently in Draco’s face, “because I find the idea-“ she took a drag of said cigarette, “- of you sitting up here and crying preposterous.”

“How dare you-“

“No!” She stopped Draco by lifting her finger and putting it over his lips, “You have been absolved by everyone but you! Deal with the fact that you have been forgiven, deal with the fact that your parents have not been, and stop fending everyone off with your shitey expressions!

“I have something I’ve wanted to say to you for a long time,” she grabbed the bottle, took a drink, took a drag off her fag, and set her face before saying, “You are a human, I am a human. You are wizard, and I am a witch. We are different on the outside, but on the inside we are all the same.

“Our souls are both just energy. We will die, and our flesh will corrode with the help of flesh eating maggots, in our not so “eternal wooden boxes”… and our energy will be expelled back into the universe to be used however it sees fit.” She grabbed Draco’s left arm, and turned his ulna inward, and pushing up his sleeve to expose his tattoo. Draco’s breath caught as she touched her fingertips to the ink… “Our blood" -Hermione continued, her voice turning soft as she lightly traced around the Mark- “it’s red, Draco. Not muddy… not pure, just red- burning brighter the second it comes in contact with oxygen; breathing as we all do…” 

Pansy grabbed the bottle from Harry, turning to look him in the eyes as she turned to face him. She tried to ignore her heart’s flutter that came from sitting so close to the Man Who Lived, listening to the witch she once loathed (the feelings changed once they stood up for Draco) tell her lover how life was… 

Never… ever… ever once thinking that she would be in such close proximity with Harry; thinking that Hermione would even touch Draco without a fist? Or that the blonde would allow the touch to be long. Intimate.

Pansy would have never thought that this would happen; especially after the school turned on her for suggesting what she had… She would never think that she and Draco would be sitting so close to their banes; the curses they bore…

Draco regretted everything he had ever done to the two, just as Pansy regretted ever suggesting that they turn Harry over. It was still raw within them (all of them), and the two Slytherins had been talking about the two just as they had walked up the stairs, and how they were an ever-present reminder of their sins.

The Gryffindor man looked at Pansy as if he’d only just seen her for the first time; like the two didn’t have years of mostly silent, semi-indifferent, history. 

His eyes passed over her face- slowly, taking in each of her features in turn- and Pansy was so aware of this that she had to freeze in shock; gripping the bottle neck tight, and let the minute pass as she studied his eyes studying her. 

“I suppose, I’m glad you’re here too…” Harry said this to Pansy in a low voice, and the witch knew it was only loud enough for her to hear. 

The raven-haired pair had stopped paying attention to the interaction going on between their lovers beside them; Draco staring at Hermione, and she doing the same in return, as the blonde said,

“I- I know, Hermione. I know this. I’ve always known this. And, because I know you’re smarter than me, I know you know why I used to say those things to you. I said them- because I was afraid of the fact that I didn’t think us any different.

“That wouldn’t have been acceptable, then.”

Hermione nodded at him, released his arm, and she leaned back to look behind Draco to Harry and Pansy, Draco’s gaze following hers; the Gryffindor wizard and the Slytherin witch staring at one another in a silence that seemed tense; and in more ways than one.

It felt heated- sexual- to Draco, and he turned back to Hermione to see if she had felt it too.

Her face said that she did as she looked up at Draco with slightly widened eyes; her plump bottom lip being trapped between her teeth for a second, just before she took another drag of her cigarette, and pressed her chest into Draco’s…

… To allow her to reach over the blonde’s shoulder, and push gently into the back of Pansy’s head, causing her face to be nudged lightly into Harry’s.

Up until this point, Pansy hadn’t said much, simply because she hadn’t been comfortable with letting her mouth run away with her again, but she couldn’t help it as her cheek was pressed into Harry’s lips, and she pulled away to turn around and glare at Hermione.

“Wha- why did you do that, Granger?” Pansy asked, both angry and embarrassed that she and Harry been so obvious in their awkward sexual moment that Hermione decided she should help them along.

Not that Pansy thought there was anything to be helped along.

“Sorry… it just seemed right.” Hermione took a drink of the bottle and gave it back to Draco, who took it with an uncontrollable grin. He, for a moment, thought that Hermione had been leaning in to kiss him; which had been awkward because he had been sure the Gryffindors were an item, and Draco and Pansy had had a thing going on for a while; though they hadn’t labeled it farther than best friends with benefits.

But, as he turned to look back at Harry and Pansy- the witch glaring angrily at Hermione- Draco couldn’t help but catch the way that Harry’s eyes moved up and down the Slytherin witch.

They’d been drinking, yes, but not very much, though Draco seemed to think the alcohol was affecting them more than any of them realized.

He had, just a few seconds ago, wanted to hope that Hermione was actually going to kiss him, even if he and Pansy were back to back. Pansy knew that Draco was attracted to the Gryffindor witch, and had been for a while, but the blonde wasn’t sure he was ready to allow himself to hope any further than he had, and go so far as to hope that he could have both of the witches at once.

And then he saw Harry’s face… and he wondered if there was a possibility that the four of them- could…

(Don't Open 'Til Doomsday)  
Buried beneath the statue, the answer hides  
Enduring throughout the ages, the transmitter lies  
Once the chamber's open, the signal will be sent  
To another world far beyond the stars


	3. Where Eagles Dare

“It seemed right to make me kiss your boyfriend?” Pansy snapped at Hermione, who gave a small smirk before saying, 

“Yes.”

Hermione’s answer took the other three for a complete loop; the shock so immense their eyes widened, their jaws went slack, and they all turned to the Gryffindor witch in disbelief.

“Oh, get over that, too! It was a joke,” Hermione said, facing front and looking out over the grounds, holding the bottle out, dropping it, and then bringing it back to her hand with a whispered “accio”. She did this a few more times as the other three looked between themselves.

The air was awkward; drunken teenaged hormones, lust, and uncertainty; except for Hermione who seemed to have really only thought it a joke as she acciod the bottle, and took another sip.

“What’s so funny about Pansy kissing Potter?” Draco asked as Harry looked back to Pansy. 

Harry felt dumb for being so obvious that the other two had picked up on his inspection of the Slytherin witch; taking in her eyes, and her full, soft looking lips. He’d, unfortunately, gone so far as to let his eyes travel down her body, only for Draco to notice!

Hermione shrugged and passed the bottle to Draco, saying,

“Because I thought it would be interesting to see if they would actually kiss one another,” she shrugged again, “and because I know what Harry looks like when he sees something he likes.” 

The Slytherins’ heads snapped to look at the raven haired man, who turned red at Hermione’s statement, and they watched him as he looked between them all with uncertain green eyes, and stammered, 

“I- uh- um- I don’t- uh… Hermione!” He finally snapped her name, and she gave a laugh, saying,

“It’s fine with me if you look. Hell-“she stood, brushed off her bum, “-it’s fine with me if you do more than that. I need to use the loo.” She turned and left the other three sitting in an awkward silence.

Harry looked to the Slytherins, and he felt his courage falter as he considered just leaving and taking Hermione back to the Head’s dorm and fucking off the erection he was trying to ignore. His rival classmates, luckily, didn’t notice the beginnings of his arousal as he said,

“I- I didn’t mean to offend, Draco, I was just-"

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Draco seemed to be halfway lying, if that was possible to read, “If she decides to do anything with you, that’s up to her…” Draco shrugged, and said in a joking tone, “We should trade sometime, Potter.” Harry looked to Pansy, who looked none too pleased as she turned to face Draco as much as possible with her high-heeled feet still dangling off the edge.

“Excuse me? I’m not anyone’s to trade!” Pansy almost shrieked, before Draco leaned over and kissed her; causing Harry to raise his brow… But that only lasted a second before Draco grabbed the witch’s chin and turned her to face Harry, who leaned down and kissed Pansy on the mouth.

Hermione had said she didn’t care… and Harry knew she didn’t. 

If she felt otherwise, Hermione Granger would tell you.

Harry thought of what Hermione’s reaction would be if she came back and saw Harry kissing Pansy, and Pansy returning it; but at the feeling of the Slytherin witch’s hand trailing up his leg, his prick, and his stomach to his chest, he suddenly wondered if she’d come back to something more than just snogging.

But he didn’t have to wait long because Hermione never left… she waited just in the shadows, beyond their vision, and watched the exchange with greedy eyes. She didn’t know why the image- the one of Harry and Pansy kissing while Draco looked on- made her core begin to ache, even further than it had when she had pressed herself against the blonde to push Pansy in the head.

She had meant it as a joke, but the way the two had reacted gave Hermione a definitive “yes” when she’d asked herself, “Are they eye-fucking right now?”; which only led her mind into connecting that realization to the way Draco looked when she’d leaned against him to mess with his “girlfriend”; as if he had expected her to kiss him, but leaned back because he wasn’t sure that he should let her.

Hermione could tell that he wanted to let her by the way he’d licked his lips at her advance.

Draco wanted to kiss her, she knew it, and Harry and Pansy were sloshed enough to kiss each other as well; which made her move back up the stairs, her shoes still silent, and she sat beside Draco; making eye contact with him as he looked shocked at her sudden return, before leaning up to kiss him on the mouth, just as Harry broke away from Pansy to look at what caused the blonde man to gasp.

It was with a little fear that Harry quit snogging Pansy, expecting Draco to be angry that Harry hadn’t stopped. Noticing Harry’s shocked daze, the witch before him, who had opened her eyes, followed his gaze to watch as Draco reached up to wind his fingers into Hermione’s hair, pulling her closer, to kiss her fully, passionately. 

When the Slytherin witch turned back to Harry with a wide eyed expression, Harry had to fight the urge to grab her and snog her stupid. Instead, he tapped Draco on the shoulder, causing the blonde to break his kiss with Harry’s lover and turn around to look at him with both surprise and worry, before the raven-haired man said,

“I- I don’t want to break this up, but we should go before Filch comes up here. If we go to the Head’s Dorm, our portrait will tell Dumbledore’s portrait and he’ll tell McGonagall,” The others remained silent, letting his statement sink in before he dropped the final bomb, 

“We should go to the Slytherin prefect dorm.”

His words suggested a lot, and Harry hardened his features as the feeling of unease crept in while he watched the other three look between each other; Hermione feeling like her heart was going to explode at the thought of what could happen if they all agreed.

Filch wasn’t due for another hour, at least, and they all knew this… so..?

What had happened?! How did a couple of bottles of whiskey turn into- wait… never mind!

Hermione hadn’t meant her half-drunk, existential rant to lead to this, nor did she think teasing Pansy and Harry would cause some sort of lust to spark in them for the other.  
She had, however, expected something to happen when she kissed Draco as the other “couple” did the same.

“Sold,” Draco said, standing, grabbing Hermione by the hand and leading her towards the stairs, as Harry did the same with Pansy.

As they moved quickly through the halls, their destination clear in their minds, the two witches chanced a look at one another, as did the two wizards who led them by the hands. The witches wore raised brows, and each held a bottle of whiskey, and Hermione fought the urge to say anything; fearful that her words would ruin the moment.

She wondered why that mattered, trying to concentrate on, and think away, the feeling between her legs.

Harry looked at Draco, who didn’t slow his quick pace to return the stare; his silver eyes shining bright with lust and drunken determination, the sight causing Harry to squeeze Pansy’s hand tighter, and look back at the two witches who hadn’t let them go.

They were all thinking to themselves, “Are we really doing this?”, while simultaneously thinking, “I hope this happens.”

As they came to stand before the brick wall that served as the hidden entryway to the Slytherin dorms, Draco turned around and said,

“I don’t know who’s in there, but you should use a disillusionment charm or something… Here.” Draco grabbed the bottle of whiskey from Hermione, and Pansy did the same with Harry- who had taken it to drink from when they stopped before the wall- before the curly-haired witch took out her wand and cast her charm; all the while no one dropping their hands.

“Pure Intentions,” Pansy said, her words causing the bricks to move and open the wall before them; the Gryffindors smiling to themselves in amusement. 

Hermione felt Draco squeeze her hand tighter as he pulled her into the large cold, dark room; moving quickly and ignoring those who were still awake. Her eyes widened as she took the in the sight before her; Harry and Ron had told her that it looked like a sunken pirate ship- the windows looking out into the murky expanse of the Black Lake- but she never expected to be so enthralled by the darkness and the green glow of the lamps.

She didn’t have much time to gawk, though, as Draco moved them through the common room and toward the portrait of a snake, to which he said, “Blood Oath.”

Harry had to give another smile at the password their “new friends” had chosen, before the portrait swung open; Pansy pulling Harry through, before Draco moved to let Hermione enter, as discretely as possible, before he followed. 

Then the portrait swung closed behind them…

(Where Eagles Dare)  
Let's test your threshold of pain  
Let's see how long you last  
That's happened in your rape  
On bosoms of your past

With jaded eyes and features  
You think they really care  
Let's go where eagles dare  
Let's go where eagles dare


	4. Dig Up Her Bones

Draco grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the Pansy, moving to set them on the desk near the fireplace, which roared bright orange and lit up the dark room. He looked to Harry, who had released Pansy’s hand, and he broke the silence once more to say,

“The bed in my room is bigger.”

Pansy grabbed Harry’s hand, and looked to Hermione and grabbed her hand as well, before pulling them towards Draco’s door; the blonde moving quickly to stand behind Hermione, where he proceeded to pull her shirt from her skirt and let his fingers flit over her skin.

The four came to a stop for Pansy to open the door, and she felt Harry’s hard body press against the length of her own, and she began to fumble with door handle as the Man Who Lived began to push his excitement into her lower back. She felt his hands come up and move her hair to the side, his lips sucking the spot below her ear, causing a moan to leave her lips, and her arse moved back to press against him as he ground himself into her.

As she failed time and time again to reach for the door handle, she felt herself being pressed further into the door as the three behind her became closer and closer; moving against each other; groping her and each other.

Just as Pansy decided she was going to give up on the door, she felt Harry’s hand move and replace her own; the door opening only aiding in Pansy falling forward, and Harry barely being able to catch onto the doorframe before the other three came down on top of her.

The feeling of Harry catching them made Draco chuckle loudly before he grabbed Hermione around the waist and stepped back, allowing Harry to reach down and pick Pansy up before he carried her and tossed her on the bed onto her back; moving to kneel between her legs and kiss her, bringing more moans from the witch.

Draco turned Hermione around, putting his lips to hers, letting his heart beat erratically as he was finally able to grab and kiss the witch he’d long wondered about; about her taste, and her smell, and the way she sounded as she was pleasured… the sound she made when she came… if she trembled and moaned, or if she shook and screamed as her orgasms hit her.

His fingers moved up Hermione’s ribs, under her shirt, and he pushed her toward the bed until she fell back; her head near Pansy’s bicep where she lay parallel to Hermione. The Slytherin witch looked up at him with lust filled, hooded eyes, as Harry kissed her neck and collar bone; his glasses already off, lying near Pansy’s head.

Draco moved to kneel between Hermione’s legs, and he bent forward, past the Gryffindor witch to his eldest friend and lover, kissing the woman passionately; catching her moans in his lips as the Gryffindor wizard did things to her that caused her pleasure.

The blonde man loved the look on Pany’s face as he pulled back, and Pansy loved the way Draco looked as he kissed Hermione; the other woman reaching up above her head and grabbing onto Pansy’s arm as Draco slid his fingers further up Hermione’s shirt to palm her breast through her bra.

Hermione moaned, and Draco knew he had to hear it again; so he slipped his hands under her bra and squeezed a breast in each hand, causing her to press herself further into him, and open her mouth for his tongue as she gasped.

The sound of the other witch moaning caused Pansy to feel a ripple of pleasure move through her, and she wrapped her legs around Harry’s waist- trying desperately through her pleasure- to reach down and rub his cock through his pants. The Man Who Lived moaned into Pansy’s mouth, and she reached her hands to the hem of his jumper and pulled it up his body.

He sat up on his knees, which aided in both the removal of his shirt and for his erection to press into her knicker covered opening; the fabric already wet from his teasing, skillful tongue and hands. Upon him removing his shirt, Pansy had to gasp, which pulled Draco’s attention, and both Slytherins stared openly at Harry’s scars. 

He had so many, that the Slytherin pair looked to one another wide-eyed as they realized the boy with the scar was the man with the scars…

Hermione, who had noticed Draco and Pansy’s lapse into silence, slid back along the bed from underneath Draco, and she kicked her shoes off, before undoing and removing her shirt; revealing, as she pushed her hair back and she moved to unclasp her bra, the many scars that marred the “perfect” Gryffindor Head Girl.

To Draco, and even to Pansy, she was still perfect; and, obviously to Harry, she had never been anything else. But the witch, though seeming fine with her nudity, looked shy at revealing her scars; they were all over her arms, and chest and stomach, and the red word “Mudblood” shone stark in the candlelight.

Pansy chanced another look at Draco, and she pulled her lip between her teeth as she gave him a small nod; to which, the blonde looked to the other man as he undid his shirt, and threw it on the floor, showing the Gryffindor wizard the scars left from the use of Snape’s curse.

The Slytherin witch, baring not a flaw, besides inside, looked at them all as she lay beneath Harry; her legs still locked around his hips. It made her wonder how the three had never been closer; seeing as it seemed they came as some broken set. 

She felt the odd man out in this, being as she was still completely clothed, and that when those clothes were gone, she would be the only one who had walked away from all of the bollocks mostly unscathed; at least in comparison.

But drinking always made Pansy’s inner Gryffindor shine through- though she wished she could have blamed the day she gave Harry up as an inebriated faux pas- and the witch pulled away from Harry to stand on the floor, and ignored the gazes of the other three as she stripped entirely, throwing her knickers off into the corner somewhere; thinking, in her blurry mind, that she should be the one to bare the fact that she had been the luckiest.

It didn’t feel right to let someone else do it… and Draco understood her reasoning as he watched her, before he moved on his knees to grab her hand and pull her back onto the bed, and push her into Harry’s arms. The blonde then moved to Hermione, as Harry began to kiss Pansy once more, to grab the scarred witch by her “tattooed” arm, and pull her against his chest.

Draco had to stifle a grin as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he gripped her “tattoo” a little longer before he moved his hands into her hair, and lay her parallel on the bed. Her legs wrapped around his hips, causing her skirt to ride up and expose her knickers, and Draco could feel her heat on his stomach, and her scars on his, and her tongue on his; and he had to moan and grind his erection into her.

She moaned, just as Pansy did, and the men paused in their ministrations to look at each other; Pansy looking down at them where her back pressed against Harry’s chest, one of his hands’ fingers twisting and pinching her nipple, while his wand hand moved down between her legs. He’d used the wetness already there to slick his fingers, and he was moving his middle fingers in slow, dragging circles on her clit.

If Pansy would have known the Man Who Lived was this willing and uninhibited when he drank, she would have bought the man whiskey, and told him he must turn himself into her bedroom! Fuck Voldemort!

When the two men made eye contact, Harry decided to tease Pansy- by twisting her nipple and rubbing her clit a little harder- just so that the other man would know… that he was about to shag his girlfriend; and that just made Draco move to rip Hermione’s knickers off of her, and undo his pants… all while them men maintained eye-contact. 

Pansy wanted to think they were playing some sort of game with one another, but didn’t get to think on it much longer as Harry pushed Pansy onto her face, undid his trousers, positioned himself at her opening, and pushed into her; just and Draco decided it was high time to pull Hermione, by the hips, onto his own cock.

He watched, with silver eyes, as Hermione slid onto him; as her eyelids fluttered, her mouth opened to let out a gasp; while all at the same time watching Pansy’s face- which was only inches from Hermione’s, laying on her cheek- as Harry gripped the tops of her arse and pushed into the Slytherin woman with one, rough push.

As the couples grabbed onto one another- Pansy and Hermione even holding hands at one point- all desperate for some sort of stability; they lost themselves in their moment completely, the women moaning the men’s names as they pressed their hips against them.

Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off the women’s faces; watching as Pansy watched Hermione’s face twist, her teeth bite her lip, throw her head back with a loud scream of release that sounded like Draco’s name. 

Pansy felt a hard twist in her abdomen, and she moaned louder as the sight of Hermione coming began to get her off. When Draco’s hand came down on Pansy’s arse, the man helping himself to Harry’s fun, Pansy gave a loud squeal; which made Harry chuckle before he moved his hand back to her clit, forcing the Slytherin witch over the edge she’d been teetering on.

The blonde man couldn’t handle the sound of any more coming women as Pansy’s orgasm hit her, and she tensed under Harry. Pain gripped Draco’s gut as the pleasure in him became unbearable, and he felt himself begin to pulse; forcing him to pull out of the trembling, whimpering Gryffindor below him as he sprayed his seed on her stomach. 

Pansy watched Draco through hooded eyes, noting the white liquid that fell onto the other witch, before she turned her head enough to look up at Harry. They made eye contact, and the ripples that still pulsed through Pansy became stronger as she pushed back onto Harry’s cock, milking him as she began to feel his thrusts become harder, deeper. She had to push her face into the mattress to keep her scream down as the man behind her pumped until he was spent; not caring to pull out of her as he released.

(Dig Up Her Bones)  
Anything is what she is  
Anywhere is where she's from  
Anything is what she'll be  
Anything as long as it's mine


	5. Helena

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: As a friendly reminder, I do no own Harry Potter or Misfits.

Harry awoke as part of mingled heap of bodies; the smell of sweat and sex, alcohol and cigarettes, parchment and ink; the feel of cool, cotton sheets; sticky flesh and the tickling of hair; men and women, was all so very real to him as he strained to open his eyes.

However fuzzy they were- either from a hangover or the lack of spectacles- he could tell who had awoken with, and he could, somehow, remember what had transpired. 

With a flushed face, Harry dislodged himself from Pansy’s arm just enough to sit up and reach for Hermione’s knee to wake her, the witch having fallen asleep on the other edge of the bed; like the four had been sitting on the Astronomy Tower ledge that night previous. She slept in the crook of Draco’s arm, and her leg was slung over the blonde man’s waist.

Pansy, feeling Harry stir beneath her, her own leg draped over his waist, groaned. Her brown eyes fluttered open, and Harry sat back into his pillows as he, for some reason or another, held her close to his chest as she peered up at him through dark lashes.

He felt his heart quicken as he watched her register what was going on, and he felt his heart beat faster as she gave a small smile. He leaned in and kissed her cheek before he flipped her onto her back, ignoring the slight pounding in his skull, and rested his growing erection between her legs while on his knees. 

She blushed lightly, but wiggled her hips closer to allow the head of his prick to slip into her opening ever so slightly, and Harry grabbed onto the small of her waist to aid in entering her to the hilt.

All shame of nudity was gone in them, Pansy reaching back to grip the pillow as he moved in and out of her at an already unhinging speed; causing Harry’s blurry eyes to completely see her large breasts as they bounced from his movements.

Said movements woke Hermione, and she wondered what was shaking her from her perfect sleep against Harry… until she realized that it was Draco she was lying next to as her eyes opened to yell angrily at the culprit who ruined her beauty rest. Her eyes, though, looked up to watch Harry as he fucked Pansy, just on the other side of Draco.

For a moment, she felt confused, as if she were in a dream, until she looked up and saw Draco looking down at her with sleepy eyes. He glanced at the two beside them, and then he looked back at her with a cheeky grin; and then everything came back to her.

The crazy night before…

It stopped her heart to see him grin in such a way at her, of all people, and she couldn’t help the urge to push up and kiss him; though regretting it because it cut off the image of Draco Malfoy grinning at her like some doofus. 

For some reason, that made Hermione’s heart flutter, and her core clench, and she was atop him in a matter of seconds; her hand between her legs as she began to stroke his semi-hard length. She kept her lips on his as she worked him, allowing herself to shudder and moan as his hands trailed her body; pinching her nipples, dragging his nails down her sides, gripping her arse roughly as he helped her move her slick opening over the head of his cock, and she sat down on him quickly.

She sat up as she began to rock on top of him, feeling pleasure rip through her as he made contact with every ripple of her pussy; throwing her head back as she let her moans come out and mix with Pansy’s. 

The sound made Harry shudder, and he could swear he leaked pre-cum into the witch below him, who was trying to bite her lip and keep her noises at bay. Harry didn’t like this, so he leaned over her to take her bottom lip in his teeth; forcing her noises to come out; high pitched and dangerously divine.

“I want to hear you,” Harry whispered into her mouth, and he felt her grin against him before he sat up. He looked to Draco, noting the face Harry remembered liking all too much; the face that said he loved the feeling of Hermione as much as he did. 

He looked to his girlfriend, the Gryffindor witch’s eyes closed as her mouth let out hiccupped gasps as the Slytherin bore into her; gripping her hips with his nails, and lifting his own vigorously; his eyes locked onto the image of Hermione as much as Harry.

Until the raven haired man realized he didn’t like the position as much as he would another...

He stopped, and said, “Stop.”

Everyone did, looking up to him with flush faces and the very real ghost of pleasure on their features.

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked, leaving Harry to say,

“Nothing,” He pulled out of Pansy and grabbed Hermione from Draco, neither looking too pleased about hit, and Harry said to the blonde, “Watch. Get up,” he lifted his chin, indicating the man move to the other edge of the bed.

He did so, and Harry moved the women, who allowed him to position them, back to back. He then acciod his glasses, and his wand, and he conjured a long, thin length of leather.

“Wow…” Pansy said to Harry, her amused smirk plastered to her face as he returned a devilish smirk of his own, and he grabbed her wrists to tie them together as Hermione tried to turn and look at what had happened; feeling the hot length of Pansy’s back, down to her arse, against her own.

It felt odd, and her attempt to look toward her boyfriend only made Draco shake his head at her, and grab her by her chin to force her to look at him, purring,

“No,” he gave her a peck on the lips, “Just relax. Let him do what he’s doing.” He put his legs back to her hers, and Hermione felt excitement mingle with the need that was gnawing at her insides. Being ripped off of Draco was, now, not something she’d wanted; but if the mischievous Slytherin before her would continue wearing such an impish grin, she might protest.

She almost did, once she felt the bed shift, and Harry and Draco lifted her arms; but she knew Harry well enough to trust him, and it seemed Draco felt that same way. 

Her arms went up and back against Pany’s own, and tied her to the other witch; wrapping leather around their armpits (the leather behind their necks)- securing it- and then up and around their elbows- securing it- wrapping it around their wrists- securing it- and then giving Draco one end as the men stood and tied the witches the longer, top bannisters of the four-poster.

Hermione wanted to look at Pansy in worry, but that was impossible with how they’d been tied together, so she looked up at Draco as he tied the leather tightly- ensuring the women’s arms stayed up, and applying the right resistance to their wrists- before he knelt before her.

“What was the rest of your plan, Potter?” Draco asked, running his fingertips over Hermione’s shoulders and nipples, and down to graze her stomach. She trembled, and she felt Pansy do the same behind her, the feeling of flesh on hers making the heat in her core burn hotter; especially once Harry said, 

“This.” And he began to press Pansy into Hermione’s back as he, she figured, lifted Pansy’s legs around his waist to shag her as she hung against Hermione; the restraints pulling and tugging against her as Draco took his cue.

He grabbed Hermione by the back of her thighs, and wrapped her legs around his waist as he positioned her on him; pushing in to the hilt, and backing her into Pansy, who had begun to shake against Hermione, and moan swears that no one should hear.

“Fuck- yes! Do you like fucking me against your girlfriend, Potter?”

“Fuck yes,” Harry growled in response; the small conversation causing an eruption of fowl swears, commands, demands; there was a degradation of civility and common decency as the men pushed themselves into the witches between them.

Harry would later recall saying something like, “One of these days, I’m going to have to tie your head to my cock while I fuck your face.”

And Hermione would later recall hearing it, and Draco saying to her as he bucked into her wildly, “Merlin, what I wouldn’t give to have your bratty mouth tied to my dick.”

Harry heard this as well, and it didn’t take long for him to grab Pansy by the ribs, bend his lips down to hers, and cum into her, hard, with loud thrusts, and an equally loud groan. He felt her tense against him, and he continued to push into her as she threw her head back against Hermione’s.

He wouldn’t have thought that he would be shagging Pansy, let alone letting Draco shag Hermione, and for them to allow it in return. When they’d been drunk the night before, sure… But now that there wasn’t any booze, and they had all consented to Harry’s “suggestion”, he wondered why they hadn’t done this sooner!

Pansy felt amazing, and she looked amazing as when she came, her moans loud and, and her mouth opening to say,

“Harry! I’m coming! I’m coming!”

The Gryffindor witch felt Pansy against her, and felt her own pleasure rise as her body reacted to the sound and sensation of the other witch coming against her back and practically screaming her lover’s name. Hermione felt her own pussy quivering and clenching as she tried to keep her eyes on Draco’s as he came in her, the Slytherin man staring down at her with blazing silver eyes that made a shiver wrack her core.

It felt amazing, like delicious fire, as he gripped her desperately, and gasped and moaned as he leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers in an attempt to stay upright; the feeling of his cock swelling within her only made it easier for him to hit the final spot that sent Hermione into her own fit of gasped moan of,

“I’m coming, Draco.”

She did what she could as she gripped the leather she could reach to hold onto it in desperation; forcing herself back against the other witch as her body tensed and shook and trembled, and she felt herself, and Draco, leak out of her opening as her hips ground against him. 

Harry had found his wand as he heard his girlfriend release on his “enemy”, raising it to banish the leather; releasing the women from their bondage, and watching them as they slumped together and fell on the bed. Pansy rolled over, panting, wrapping her arms around Hermione as they caught their breath; the Gryffindor witch moving to hug her back and kiss her on the cheek.

The men sat back on their haunches, their chests heaving as they watched their women hold each other in a post-orgasmic daze. When they finally looked to each other, Harry had to shake his head and smile as Draco gave him his trademark smirk.

(Helena)  
If I cut off your arms and cut off your legs  
Would you still love me anyway?  
If you're bound and you're gagged, draped and displayed  
Would you still love me anyway?  
Why don't you love me anyway?


	6. London Dungeon

Advanced Potions was oddly tense Monday morning… seeing as the Gryffindors had dressed and left with awkward waves, and had not come down for meals on Sunday.

Professor Slughorn was prattling on about this or that, something that not all of the students were listening to; there were two Gryffindors and two Slytherins that were particularly absent, though their bodies were there. 

They hardly comprehended what their professor was saying. Hell- they hardly realized he was talking at all, for the four had decided to sit close to each other that day; the Gryffindors sitting in the chairs directly in front of the Slytherins, who had gotten to class first.

Said Slytherins were writing notes to one another, and when Draco looked up to his two new “lovers”, he had to wonder if they were doing the same thing as they huddled close together, though they had plenty of space, and the room was kept warm with a fire.

‘Do you think that what happened is going to make all of this weird?’ Pansy wrote first, about ten minutes into class. Draco read the note, and responded,

‘It’s already weird. We are pretending nothing happened between us at all.’ Pansy read this, and thought of her response for a moment before writing,

‘Do you want them to come back again?’

Draco’s eyebrows drew up, just a little, as he looked to her and shrugged, before writing back,

‘Do you?’  
‘I asked you first.’

‘I could go either way, I guess.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means that I liked it. Happy? And I wouldn’t mind doing it again, but not if you aren’t open to the idea.’

Pansy’s brows drew up this time, before she tore a piece off of her parchment, scribbled something on it, folded it, and she looked around before she spelled the note to float low, and land before the curly haired witch. Draco looked to Pansy with a raised brow, and she gave him a smirk, just as Hermione’s hand went up.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” Slughorn asked once he noticed her hand.

“May I use the loo?” She asked, and before the professor could answer, Pansy raised her hand and asked,

“Might I go as well?” 

Hermione stood with Pansy as Slughorn nodded his consent to both of them; Pansy exited first, not caring to hold the door open for the other witch (holding up appearances, and all that). 

Draco and Harry watched as they left, before the two men looked to one another. Draco, who was surprised by Pansy’s boldness- somewhat- could tell that Harry felt the same by his slightly wide-eyed expression. The blonde man tried not to feel anxious as he let his mind wander, thinking of all the things the witches could be getting into during their trip to the loo… 

When Pansy and Hermione entered the bathroom together, the red tie witch waved her wand and said, “revelio”, before she locked and silenced the door; Pansy had turned only feet away from her to watch. The curly-haired witch asked,

“What is it?” Her tone was pleasant, but somehow guarded, as if she were ready for Pansy to have come to her senses, or something, and was looking for a fight. This caused the green tie witch to smirk.

“We want to extend an invitation...” was all Pansy said, knowing that the witch before her would understand. But, despite knowing- which Pansy knew she did- the woman smirked at her, crossed her arms, and rested her weight to one side as she asked,

“Extend an invitation for… to what, exactly?” 

Pansy’s smirk grew as she realized that the other witch wanted her to say it, as if she wanted to play a power game; something Pansy was “lettered” in. But Pansy, who loved to get what she wanted, decided to say,

“An invitation to our bed, of course.” This caused the other witch to raise a brow, and tilt her head to the side. For a moment, silence and a stare-down ensued, before the Gryffindor closed the gap between them. She grabbed Pansy by the tie, looked down at her, and said,

“I will have to talk to my comrade…” 

To which Pansy responded to by pushing Hermione’s back against the door, the witch releasing the green tie to put her hands back, and the Slytherin placed her legs between the other woman’s. She kept her pressed against the door with a hand on her shoulder; her wand hand moved up Hermione’s skirt, and she smirked at the gasp the witch made when her fingers slipped beyond the barrier of her knickers.

“My comrade,” Pansy started, pushing a finger into the taller witch she was currently attempting to dominate, “is willing. From what I could gather from the weekend,” she pushed her finger up, and began to wiggle it about slowly, making Hermione’s wide eyes lower their lids, and her hips to move forward against Pany’s knuckles, “your comrade is more than willing. 

“I almost didn’t shower,” Pansy continued as she slipped another finger in, dropping her lips to Hermione’s neck, whispering against it, “so that I could keep his cum in me a little longer. Do you do that with him?” The witch against the door whimpered as Pansy began to slowly pump her fingers in and an out of her. “Do you want Draco’s cum?” The witch didn’t respond, she only whimpered and closed her eyes, set her head back against the wood. Pansy sneered, asking again,

“Do you,” she pushed her fingers in to the knuckles,” want… Draco’s cum?”

“Yes!” Hermione cried, trembling, becoming Gryffindor putty in Pansy’s hands.

“Seven o’clock then?” Pansy asked; knowing that the rounds were being done by the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor Prefects; Susan and Justin, Lavender and Dean.

“Yes…” Hermione gasped, grinded, “Come- to our commons, “she moaned, Pansy pumped, “the password is- “Honorable”.”

Pansy pulled her fingers from the witch, gave her a kiss- while also reaching past to unlock the door- saying,

“Perfect… little Miss Honorable.”

With that, she used her hip to push the other woman out of her way, and she opened the door to return to class. 

It had been twelve minutes by the time the two women sauntered back into the classroom in silence, resuming their seats, and the Slytherin witch waited a few minutes- watching Hermione sit and settle- before she wrote,

‘We’ll meet them in the Head Dorm at seven.’

‘Perfect,’ was Draco’s single-word reply… until he took the parchment back and wrote, ‘Anything interesting happen that I should know about?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

‘I would!’

‘Well,’ she paused in her writing, and gave him a smirk, which he glared at, and finished, ‘You should smell my fingers.’

He did…

When class was over, the two Slytherins packed their things, mindfully aware of the Gryffindors as they did the same. The blonde man waited, and as Harry went to walk past him, Draco exited his row and shoved his shoulder into the other man.

“Watch it, Potter,” Draco sneered at him; which only led the other three in their four-way predicament to look slightly startled. Not only was Harry Head Boy, but their sexual escapades had been some sort of truce. 

Draco knew this- they all did- and Harry, being ever aloof, caught on to his gambit rather quickly, sneering back,

“I am watching it, Malfoy. You were the one who ran into me!”

“You wish I would touch you.” Draco- a constant chaotic… something- loved that Harry had decided to play this game with him. He enjoyed watching him huff; redden in anger… and now in shy embarrassment.

This sudden shade of red that hit the Man Who Lived did not go unnoticed by Pansy, Hermione, or Draco at all; and, suddenly… they all knew what their after dinner adventures might entail.

“I don’t even want to look at you,” Harry snapped. Draco knew his words to be truth, but only because the dark haired man knew that the blonde had seen his flush.  
Harry walked out of the classroom, ignoring their schoolmates’ stares; all of them knowing that Harry had some sort of respect for the blonde, and they all knew he was, or thought Draco stupid for not showing some respect in return… 

But they watched in silence as the two parties left out the door, and walked silently down the hall in pairs; some meters apart, before following them.

Pansy looked up at Draco, and raised her brow at him, asking non-verbally, “What the hell just happened there?”

To which Draco responded, non-verbally, with a smirk, “I have no idea… but I want to find out.”

The two Slytherins wore matching smirks as they split ways with Gryffindors at the entrance of the Great Hall for lunch; both pairs sitting with their backs to the other, pretending, for the sake of everyone else, that everything was as it always was…

But it wasn’t; they were just smart enough to know that what they did, and planned on doing, should remain between them solely. 

Things were easier that way… 

Well… really, it was easier not to do anything like what they did at all; especially if they didn’t want anyone to know.

(London Dungeon)  
I don't want to be here in your London Dungeon  
I don't want to be here in your British hell  
Ain't no mystery why I'm in misery in Hell  
Here's hoping you're swell


	7. The Forbidden Zone

The Head Girl had been so kind to indulge the Head Boy regarding what had transpired in the girl’s lavatory during lunch; something she’d enjoyed far more than she thought she would have! If she would have known Pansy could take Hermione to the edge in a few minutes, she would have pointed her wand at her and escorted her upstairs for spiteful scissoring. 

Fuck old Moldy!

This story, and her admitting she should have shagged Pansy sooner, only led Harry to become far too randy, and he’d demanded that Hermione “report to his room”.

Upon them reaching the confines of the Head Boy’s dorm, he had proceeded to use his skilled hands, and mouth, to help “reenact” a little of what Harry had imagined had while he’d waited in potions; pressing Hermione against his bedroom door, holding her still as his fingers and thumb brought the witch to the brink, only for him kneel and wrap her legs around his head.

He made her cum on his tongue- his mouth used to catching snitches and bitches- before he spun her around, lifted her skirt, and pulled her back onto him. 

He’d whispered in her ear, 

“You like watching me fuck her, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she answered. It was just the two of them; she could admit it. She had no insecurities with Harry, and he knew this, and he used this so that she’d admit things to him… naughty things…

“And you like it when he fucks you… and you liked it when she fucked you, and you want them to do it again.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she moaned, before Harry slapped her arse and commanded,

“Louder!”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Presently, sometime just before seven- after they’d showered quickly and gone back to class- Hermione had her books splayed about the floor; something Harry had had time to miss… a little.

However, the sight of the woman in just a t-shirt and knickers as she laid on her stomach, her arse tantalizing him from his spot on the couch, he couldn’t help but thank Merlin for books, and Hermione’s love for them; and for the fact that Hermione had taken to studying in her underwear since they’d started sleeping together.

That had only been a month ago, the night after they had helped free Draco. Ron had stayed at the Ministry, returning to work after his shift, leaving Hermione and Harry alone. 

The youngest Weasley man had been doing that a lot lately; leaving them alone together…

At that point, Ron had virtually disappeared, much like he’d continued to do, and had put in long hours at work. He had told Harry it was to keep his mind busy, but he had thrown them to the way-side as the Weasleys grasped the loss of Fred. Ginny hadn’t even left the house… she just lay there, and she and Harry hadn’t talked in months. 

She had told him that she had no interest in a relationship at the time, and it would seem to Harry that she had no interest in anything. He and Hermione had decided to they would see her at school; but when she hadn’t shown, the two had decided to leave well enough alone.

At least for now… Hermione had asked McGonagall that morning, if Hermione could succeed in convincing Ginny, if the Weasley witch could return although the semester had started. The Headmistress had agreed, and Hermione and Harry had been thinking of what words to owl the witch all day, in hopes that she would return.

Yes, Harry and Hermione were a “thing”. No, that did not mean they wanted to ignore their friends. Quite the opposite actually, though they knew their relationship change would bother their exes once they found out…

“Are you going to do your Ancient Runes homework, or are you going to stare at my arse all night? You would think I would stop caring, but I kind of miss having homework being the most stressful part of my life.” Hermione asked, not even caring to look up and back from her book to Harry, who sat, in his boxers, on an armchair by the fire. The two had showered, as they expected guests, and had decided that getting dressed wasn’t that necessary.

“Stressful? To you? Nah… But I think your arse will suffice as far as “homework” goes,” Harry responded cheekily. When she did look back at him, he noticed her face set in a small, sad smile, as if she was back in their tent in the woods again…

Harry sighed, and got up from his chair to move to her. She sat up, but only for him to push her back onto her books and parchment, avoiding her ink well, and rested between her legs before he began to kiss her. 

Hermione smiled against his kiss, wrapped her arms and legs around him, and pulled him close to her. He smiled back, and said, 

“You-“ kiss, “-need to-“ kiss, “-stop-” kiss, grabs her by the sides of her face and leans back to look in her eyes, “-thinking about that shite!”

The portrait door swung open then, causing the two to look up in surprise at the Slytherins who entered, and then up at the clock, which showed them it was only 6:45. The Gryffindors had taken their dinner, which was at five or so, in their common rooms; something they did often to avoid the awed looks of their younger classmates.

The two didn’t bother to jump apart, as McGonagall was presently the only staff member allowed to enter their dorm and she would have floo’d in from her office. She said this would only happen during emergencies, so lounging in their skivvies hadn’t seemed like a big deal. Until today, Harry and Hermione had not shared the password with anyone besides Pansy, and by default, Draco. 

It was definitely not a problem now that the Slytherins had arrived; the two on the floor not even bothering to get up as the green ties walked in and let the portrait close behind them. Their brows were lifted, and they wore amused smirks, and they stood with their arms crossed, side by side as they came to stand close.

“Getting her ready for me, eh, Potter?” Pansy asked, sounding far too much like her “boyfriend”. Harry, who was starting to enjoy the company of the Slytherin man, somehow, responded thus;

“Why yes,” he stood, and Hermione went up her elbows with a raised brow as Harry finished, “By all means…” He waved his hand at Hermione as he stepped back, and Pansy snorted and shook her head with a smile on her face.

Both Harry and Hermione liked the genuine look of mirth of the witch’s face, but didn’t have much time to ponder it as she threw her robes off and moved to take Harry’s previously assumed position; lips, tongue, hands. The whole gambit.

The sudden return to being sexually harassed caused Hermione to smile again, and she responded happily to Pansy’s kisses; wrapping her legs around her hips, and using her hand to explore the witch’s body through her clothes.

Harry looked to Draco, who hadn’t stopped smirking, and said,

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Draco said with a nod of his head, before the two wizards turned back to the witches; watching with lust filled eyes as Hermione undid Pansy’s ponytail and lost her fingers in the long, near black locks. 

Pansy’s hand dipped down between Hermione’s legs, and though Harry couldn’t see what was happening, but he was pretty sure he was getting the real reenactment of the “activities” in the girl’s loo that morning. 

Well, close enough! If not better with the fact that he and Draco were there, and the fact that they were all there alone, of their own sober accord, ready to do this all over again.

Harry didn’t have to wonder about the raven-haired witch’s activities for long once Hermione gave a groan of pleasure. The Gryffindor put one of her hands down to grab Pansy’s wrist, but didn’t push her away; instead she seemed to be coaxing her on as the Slytherin’s mouth began to work on the moaning witch’s neck.

And Hermione, who had not forgotten the way the Slytherin witch had teased her earlier, brought her hands up to pull Pansy’s skirt and knickers down to mid-thigh, and she brought her wand hand up, albeit shakily, and began to play with the Slytherin’s clit with her fingers.

She’d never touched another woman before, but she wasn’t stupid. She could read! Also, she could masturbate, so she began to do what she liked to the other woman. And, before too long, both women were writhing against each other on the floor.

When Harry felt Draco’s fingers touch a scar on his shoulder, he almost jumped as he turned to the blonde, somehow forgetting the other man was even there as his cock began to press into the confines of his boxers as he watched the women work each other into a frenzy; too lost in their own world as Pansy suckled Hermione’s collar bones, and the curly haired witch threw her head back and closed her eyes as she bit out moans.

When green met silver, Harry felt a rush of blood from his prick to his face; the memories of what Draco “suggested” earlier in potions ringing in his ears as the blonde stepped close. He grabbed Harry’s chin between thumb and forefinger, and reached up to remove his glasses -tossing them somewhere; because who gives a fuck, they have magic- and the Gryffindor man tried not look alarmed as Draco inspected his face.

It was like… they hadn’t already spent seven years in each other’s faces… Shite, Draco was the first Wizarding World child Harry ever met, the Aryan shite-bag, and once the moment on the train happened they’d been at it ever since! 

But, Harry remembered doing something very similar to Pansy the night before last; looking at her like he had never been allowed to before. Their walls were down, and Draco was letting Harry inspect him just as much in return, before the Slytherin kissed the Gryffindor; who instinctually brought his hands up to grab his tie to keep him close.

It made Harry wonder if Draco would look as good tied up as his counterpart, all the while realizing that he didn’t feel uncomfortable with the kiss at all. In fact, it felt as natural as fighting the blonde; it felt like when they raced side by side on their brooms. As if they were racing resentfully to a similar end that would bring immense satisfaction; neither truly realizing, in their youth, that love and hate had been racing side-by-side for eternity, and it fueled nearly everything on earth.

The two men lost their tongues in each other’s mouths- Harry tearing Draco’s robes from his shoulders- the blonde reaching up, once Harry was done, to undo his tie; all while kissing each other. Draco threw his tie off and broke the kiss when Harry started undoing the buttons of his shirt. 

The Slytherin’s silver eyes were almost too intense for the Gryffindor’s green to look into; the heat in them far more than Harry would have ever expected for the blonde to hold for him. It drove him, suddenly, fucking mad; forcing his lips to the other man’s as he tore the buttons from his shirt and pushed him back into an armchair as Draco threw his shirt from his arms. 

Harry straddled him, and it was then that he felt the other man’s chest against his, and his erection on his own, and he had to moan loudly as the man below him ground his hips up; causing his stomach to clench and flex. Draco grinned into his mouth as he did it again, and the Gryffindor grinned back as he moaned; noticing that he liked when the Slytherin was happy rather than… well, being the usual Draco.

He also liked to one up the man (the feeling was mutual), so he moved a hand from the blonde hair it was lost in to grab Draco; forcing a loud gasp from the blonde, and for him to instinctually (or purposefully) push into Harry’s hand.

“Wait!” Hermione said suddenly, causing the two men to stop and look down at the women on the floor; the two so lost in one another they hadn’t noticed the women stop to watch them. “We need to move this somewhere else.”

Harry moved from Draco to grab Pansy, but not before giving the other man a small smirk and kiss, and he grabbed the Slytherin witch off of the other, around the waist, and carried her off towards his room; her arse bare and sticking out. Harry smacked it, causing the witch to squeal and wiggle, and he grinned as he held her tighter so as not to drop her.

He moved with ease to the door, opened it wide, and set Pansy down on her feet in the doorway. He reached down and pulled her skirt and knickers off all the way before he slapped her arse, urging her, with a sting of pain, into his room. 

Hermione had cast an enlargement spell on the bed, making it suitable for the four to romp on, and the Gryffindor witch had to grin as she and Draco, who had decided to help her up, walked into the room behind the others; her back to his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. He bent low, as he pushed them both forward, to kiss and nip at her shoulder while one of his hands moved up under the soft fabric of her shirt to grab a breast; pinching and pulling at the nipple, causing breathy moans to leave her throat.

She hadn’t ever… ever… ever thought about Draco Malfoy in this way. It wasn’t until she’d seen him act vulnerable, like a human being- around another human being who wasn’t trying to kill him or wasn’t his mum- she had to say it softened her heart to him. 

At least enough for her to let him push against a post on Harry’s bed, drop his pants, and her knickers to her knees, and pushed his hard length into her with one buck of his hips.

(The Forbidden Zone)  
Back on Earth it's all you read about  
All the evidence destroyed  
Maps and legends mark the firewalls  
We lost, lost abandoned saviors...  
Of the Forbidden Zone


	8. Scream!

Draco mentally recorded the sound Hermione made when he entered her; low- guttural, even- as she pressed herself back to take all she could. He had to grin into her hair, as he also memorized, again, what it felt like to have her sheath him so completely.

It felt amazing, and he had to look to Pansy; the woman already busied herself in releasing Harry from his boxers, and had him in her mouth; the Man Who Was Scarred the Most having already lost his hands in her hair, and had pulled her shirt open. His eyes closed, his head back, and mouth open to let out pleasured gasps as he helped Pansy along.

“Pansy. Harry,” Draco said to them- a little annoyed that he had to stop the show, causing the witch to pull away from Harry with a small “pop”, the both looking at him with a heated, quizzical gaze. Draco smirked at them, as he moved in and out of Hermione slowly, saying, "Thanks for getting her ready for me,” The two on the other side of the bed nodded at him with grins, before Draco turned from them to whisper into Hermione’s ear, 

“You were ready for me, weren’t you, love?”

She trembled in his arms, and moved her head back from where she’d been supporting herself against the post with her arms and forehead, to gasp loudly,

“Yes, Draco.”

He loved the sound of that, and Pansy couldn’t help but feel the same way; the ache in her core too strong to ignore any longer as she moved her hand down, and began to play with her wet center. She moaned on Harry’s cock as she began to tease her clit, making her hips buck forward, and her spread legs to rub against Harry’s thighs and half-off boxers. 

Pansy, feeling completely turned on from the entire situation- remembering the way that it felt to have the other witch touch her, and what it had been like to lose her fingers in the Gryffindor once more- allowed Harry to enter her mouth, and throat, as much as possible; before she gagged and had to pull away from him.

When she looked up at him, his lip was in his teeth, and he growled before he pushed her back onto the bed, and he used his thighs to move her up the bed, before he grabbed her hips and set his cock at her opening. She asked,

“Can’t wait, can you?” He gave her a small smile and raised brow, before he asked,

“Are you serious?”

She had only a second to laugh at him before he pushed himself inside of her, and Pansy had to reach up and grab his forearms for stability; his muscles rippling under her fingers as he gripped the small of her waist and began to move her against him as he thrusted into her with hard strokes.

Pansy had to give a high pitched squeal when he grabbed her thighs and pushed her knees nearly to her ears; never slowing his pace as he drove into her. And Hermione joined the chorus with,

“Fuck yes, Draco! Please! Harder, harder, hard-“ Hermione didn’t have enough space in her mouth to finish the last “harder” because of the growled scream that left her lips as Draco leaned back; using the leverage to hit spots inside the witch that made her throw her head back.

Draco grabbed her hair- losing his fingers in the curls he’d always wanted to touch- and he held her head in place, a hand on her hip, and he forced himself into her at a speed that made her scream bounce and bob very quickly.

The blonde had never heard her scream like this before; it was so different from… the drawing room… But he was more than happy that his mind could now remember this scream, mixed with the sound of him slapping wet against her, instead of the ones from the past.

“Merlin, merlin, merlin… “She gasped as Draco shifted his hips to cause a more upward motion, before she said, “I’m fucking coming!”

This seemed to be some kind of… straw… that broke the camel’s back; the cherry on top of the cake they had, and were presently eating… Because both Gryffindor’s were getting off at the moment, and Draco knew that Pansy was close; if her noises and the fact that she was kneading the sheets with white knuckles was any indicator.

With a few more pumps, Draco pulled Hermione off of him and threw her on the bed, before he grabbed Pansy- flipping her onto her stomach as Harry fell over, spent, and onto the bed- and the blonde pushed himself into Pansy, ignoring what Harry had left behind.

The Slytherin witch, having been lost in pleasure with Harry just moments before, was now reaching out to grab his hand as Draco took her; pressing her down into the mattress as she moaned loudly. Pansy felt like she was breaking when her orgasm started- low, low in her abdomen- and she hardly realized it when Hermione moved over to catch Pansy’s scream of release with her lips.

Draco couldn’t help but follow his girlfriend into bliss as she squeezed her walls around him, and he watched at the witch’s tongues danced with each other; all while Draco bucked into Pansy, making the witch move along the bed a few inches.

-()-()-()-()-()-  
“Shite!” Harry yelled, waking Draco from the amazing sleep he had been having between Hermione and Pansy. The latter three jumped, watching Harry accio his glasses before saying, “It’s time for potions!”

“What?!” The other three asked loudly, before scrambling from the sheets, each other, and the bed. The Slytherins began accioing their clothing while Hermione ran from the room to her own and Harry moved to his closet, ripping through the hangers… as if he cared about what he wore all of a sudden.

They had all missed first period- first and second if you consider Hermione and Harry- and were well on their way to being late to Slughorn’s class.

Draco looked to Pansy, who was quickly dressing, and noted that she left her knickers, all green lace, on the floor as she started to put her shoes on. The blonde began to button his shirt up, feeling just as panicked as the rest of the group.

As Heads and Prefects, attendance was important; it was part of Head/Prefect mandate under “Codes of Public Conduct, subject B, section 6”. It had already been bad enough that McGonagall had highlighted “COPC, subject D, section 1.” in Draco’s pamphlet, and not in Pansy’s; the sentence stating, “All duels or physical fights of any sort with result in your immediate replacement.”

Draco had glared, and when Pansy had read it over his shoulder, she had giggled at him, which only made his glare worse.

“Shite, Draky!” Pansy squealed, “We’re all in trouble!”

“At least the old bat hasn’t come to find us yet. We have to move,” Draco said. Pansy nodded at him, tying her tie as she moved for the door; throwing up two fingers and calling over her shoulder,

“See you later, Gryffindor sluts!”

Draco had to laugh at his girl, and then at his “other girl” as he heard her yell from her room,

“Slytherin whores!”

Draco and Pansy made to the fireplace, stupid grins on their faces, hearts racing, and used the floo to get back to their dorms; noting that they would be using their Prefect privileges to the floo from now on… Now that this was a thing…

Because it was a fucking thing!

When they exited their fireplace into common room, they parted ways as they ran for their book bags, and moved as a familiar, well-trained unit out into the main common room, where few lingered, and into the hallway to potions. 

Upon entering, Slughorn looked at them; pulling his attention from the students he had been addressing to give them a silent, pointed stare. They froze in the doorway as their classmates turned to look at them; the fact that they were being stared down by all making it difficult for them to move.

“Uh…” Draco began articulately, before Slughorn walked around his desk, saying,

“I have been informed by McGonagall that she would like to speak to you both. You may use my floo if you’d like.” The old wizard moved his hand toward the floo off the side of the room, and the two Slytherins looked at their Head of House in mild defeat before walking through the small sea of eyes that followed them as they passed. 

As they stepped toward the fireplace, Harry and Hermione burst through the doorway, looking somewhat disheveled, as Draco and Pansy did, freezing as the stares hit them as well. 

Slughorn sighed in annoyance, and said,

“Go with these two to Minerva.”

The Gryffindor pair began to walk slowly through the classroom toward the floo, they too receiving looks of curiosity as Pansy used this distraction as the time to grab floo powder; taking a little ride to McGonagall’s office.

She stepped out, not yet daring to look at the elder witch as she dusted herself off a bit, listening as Draco came in before looking up at him. He moved out of the way just before Harry came through, and then Hermione; all four standing near each other- not realizing how odd it looked for Draco and Harry to be standing almost shoulder to shoulder with no qualms- and stared in silence at their surprised-looking Headmistress.

“Well-“ She began, standing rigidly to address them from behind her large desk, “I would care to hear what you four have to say for yourselves.” The four blinked, looked to one another, and Draco said,

“I beg your pardon, Headmistress. But I- we- don’t know what you mean.” 

This caused the elder witch to say sharply,

“You know exactly what I mean, Mr. Malfoy. The lot of you,” she motioned a pointer at them all, before saying, “And I must say that I am none too pleased about you two,” she split her pointer and middle fingers at Harry and Hermione, “not showing up for advanced Transfiguration. My own Gryffindor Heads… missing Ancient Runes, on top of it!” Draco smirked. “It is only two weeks into term!”

“I will not be taking disciplinary action this time,” the Headmistress said in a warning tone, “but do not- miss class again.” 

Draco’s smirk faltered, because McGonagall looked serious… with “her Gryffindors”! Sure, she was still the Head of their house, at least for this year- that was all still up in the air between Hagrid and the new Muggle studies professor- but she looked uncharacteristically upset.

She must have noticed how serious the air became at her tone, and they all watched as the old woman sighed, shook her head, and said,

“I am sorry for my tone… I understand what you all are facing here…” She looked back and up at the portraits of Dumbledore and Snape; the two men nodding at the students fondly as they looked down at them from the wall. The four in question returned the nods, before turning back to McGonagall, who said,

“I will consider this a pre-warning...” She looked at them all, over her spectacles, looking almost pleasant as she said, “But I do not want to have to remind you, again, how important it is that you hold up some… semblance of propriety... as a good example to the other students.”

They all gulped.

Except for the Headmistress.

“Yes, Headmistress,” Hermione said, “I apologize.” The three other students apologized in unison, and the elder witch tilted her head at them, and Pansy had to keep herself from looking worried as the woman studied them all, and then said,

“It is good to see you four getting along...” She trailed off, and tilted her head to the other side before saying, “Please… return to class…” Draco had to laugh inside, because her pauses sounded like Snape’s.

Then the Headmistress righted herself, and finished sternly,

“And I urge you to remember my words. Please do not disappoint me.”

The four students nodded, and they returned to potions; sitting on opposite ends of the room; these words, more or less, on all of their minds, 

“She- looked into our souls! She’s on to us…”

(Scream!)  
It's driving me insane  
Although you try to fight  
Dragged from the silence where you hide  
'til you... Scream


	9. Fiend Club

A couple of days passed by after the four were reprimanded by their Headmistress, and the two couples had decided not to talk, write notes, sit near each other, or even look at one another the rest of the week.

The visit to the office had made it hard for all of them to agree to another meeting, but that was about to change…

It was Friday night, and the Heads had decided to hang out in the Gryffindor common room and catch up on the week with their friends; needing a distraction from the fact that neither could forget Draco or Pansy. They wanted to; because that would be the responsible, “honorable” thing to do.

So they’d decided to spend their Friday night trying to drink away their problems in other such familiar company. The Gryffindors knew their scarred friends had marks on the inside that matched the ones on the outside; they knew that the two still needed some space, so they had forgiven them for being so distant.

They were all passing around a bottle of fire whiskey, and once the Heads had been grilled about being absent to classes- to which they answered with the truth; they forgot to set their alarms- Lavender, who sat in an armchair near the fire, decided to say,

“The way Malfoy talked to you in potions the other day was ridiculous!” 

“Gods… It’s like those two have no sense of propriety… Parkinson looked too fucking happy about what he said…” Seamus said, sitting on the couch beside Harry and Hermione. The Heads shared a short glance before Harry said,

“It is what it is, Sea… If he wants to act like that, I’ll let him.” The Man Who Lived shrugged, pushing away the image of Draco shagging Hermione from the back while she kissed Pansy, all while Harry was behind the Slytherin witch.

“Why would you let him?” Dean.

“Yeah. He’s a useless pile of dragon dung,” Seamus.

“And Parkinson is such an annoying chit!” …Lavender…

“Did you hear what this bird just chirped?” Dean asked, leaning forward to look at Hermione, Harry, and Seamus, with amusement, in turn. Lavender scoffed, before snapping,  
“Shut up! You know it’s true. I should have Avada’d that slag when I had the chance! We all should have!”

“Ok!” Hermione said, putting her hands up to stop the Slytherin bash fest that their three friends had set in on. “Shut it. No one should Avada someone unless they have to, like in the war… and no one needs to be shitey to Malfoy. We all know he’s just a man in a box, and he’s lashing out because that’s what he’s always done.”

“I know you like to defend him, ‘Mione, but Merlin’s sack! Getting him out of prison is one thing; defending his character, and presuming to understand him, is just mental…” Seamus.

Both Harry and Hermione wanted to say something like, “I/She do/does understand him! Better than you could ever care to think!”, or… “Shut your fucking mouth, Seamus! We’re over that, and they’re our lovers!”

Instead, Hermione shrugged, rolled her eyes, blinked them rapidly in dry annoyance, and said,

“I’m mental, Seamus. I thought you’d know this by now.”

“I knew this,” Lavender… while shooting a small glare at the Head Girl…

“See?” Hermione said smugly, waving her hand at Lavender before resting back against Harry and saying, “Now get with the program, Sea, before I send a flock of canaries at your sack. And stop acting like you don’t know how Malfoy functions. He’s…” For reasons she and Harry understood, she couldn’t bring herself so say anything foul about Draco, “… he’s just… Malfoy.”

“You’d think he’d stop being such a dumb shite though… I mean, he could be in Azkaban!” Dean.

“Yeah! Watching his dad suck off Greyback! The poufs…” Seamus said, who then led a fit of laughter with the dark-skinned wizard who sat on the floor. Lavender scoffed in disgust.

Hermione and Harry, well… they were uncomfortable, and Hermione had to wonder if she was the one to shift due to unease, or if it had been Harry; or even both of them.

This topic of conversation had been brought up many times. Not the Greyback part, but degrading the two Slytherins in particular had become common place since their dramatic entrance a little over a week ago; Harry and Hermione hearing the gossip at the tables they tried to avoid as often as possible, or in classes where the Slytherins didn’t attend.

“Ok. Can we not talk about them anymore?” Harry asked, glaring at them all, before he realized they were giving him a strange look. He recovered by saying, “I really can’t deal with any more images I need to forget, mates.” 

Harry was talking about the Greyback thing... but the Heads’ three friends looked about uncomfortably; all of their minds going back to that one fateful day, and the many that had transpired before and after. Dumbledore’s death, and then all of the funerals…

“It’s for the best, anyway,” Hermione said, standing, “We need to get to our commons. I have a shite load of homework to do!”

Harry stood after she had, but then almost ceased in his rise from the couch because he knew his lover had no homework left to do; Harry was the one who did, so he almost stopped in shock as he realized she was lying to their friends… 

He wanted to think it was because she didn’t want to hear any more of the other’s bollocks, but he really wanted it to be because the topic of the two Slytherins was causing her to be pulled in the opposite direction of the Heads’ dorm… somewhere way opposite… like a dungeon…

Somewhere they had decided not to go back to… because that’s what Harry’s mind would like to think she was thinking…

“Me too…”

“I know you do, Harry. That’s why I said “we”.”

“Wow… Have him wrapped around your finger already? It’s Friday, mates! Stay and drink with us!” Seamus said. 

The Heads had tried to be discreet about their public displays of affection; leaving it to lounging against each other, excluding all hand-holding and kissing while others, excluding Pans and Draco, were around. They had been comfortable like this with one another for forever, so the Gryffindors around them must have noticed that something had changed between them.

“Ha ha, Seamus. Need I remind you of the list of things you should already know?” Hermione asked cheekily, earning a scoff from Harry, and a grin from the other men.

“Hey!” Harry said, frowning.

“Oh shut it. I was just being cheeky. Let’s go,” Hermione said to Harry before she turned to the others and said, “Good night, you rowdy scoundrels. Don’t have too much fun! Or do… I don’t care.” She turned from them and walked out the portrait, and Harry gave their friends a smile, saying,

“G’night, you silly bastards. Miss Brown,” Harry nodded politely at Lavender, who only chuckled at him and said,

“Goodnight, tosser.” Which led to Seamus and Dean saying,

“Goodnight, tosser!”

The second Harry heard the portrait swing closed, Hermione grabbed his hand and began to move towards the stairs that led downward, and the green-eyed man didn’t have to ask his girl where they were headed.

()()(*)()()

It had been a tense few days between the Slytherins; the both of them painfully aware of the fact that the Gryffindors hadn’t bucked up their courage and approached them; thinking, somehow, that the real Queen of Gryffindor (Minerva) had scared them straight.

It was annoying to them, the two pretty used to getting what they want at this point in their lives, minus one or two things… But they hadn’t chosen to approach them either, because they had already initiated the last rendezvous.

It was the Gryffindors’ turn to step up!

“They act like they run this shite show…” Blaise growled as he, Theo, Astoria, Pansy and Draco sat in the Prefect common room that Friday night. Blaise had his arm around Astoria where they sat on the couch, who decided to quip,

“They do, stupid. They have for years! Just get over it…”

Draco and Pansy listened to their friends, almost annoyed in the fact that Theo had had to mention that Hermione took points from him for shoving a first year into a bush.

“Of course she would!” Blaise had said angrily, which had started a roast of the two between Blaise and Theo; which continued as follows:

“I’m not getting over it! Granger is a snooty slag; Mudblood or no, that witch would be considered shite on my list any day,” Blaise.

“No doubt, mate. The fact that she helped “The Chosen One” kill He Who Must Not Be Named makes her think she’s even greater than she already thought she was. It’s sickening.” Theo.

“What’s sickening is that you can tell those two are shagging each other, and McGonagall doesn’t even care that she gave them a room together. What happened to the Weasels?” Blaise.

“We have a room together,” Pansy said absently, ignoring the blood that boiled in her. She wanted to stand up for her new lovers, and this seemed an innocent enough defense. “And you know McGonagall knows that Draco and I shag each other.”

“I’ve practically seen you two shag each other!” Theo.

“I heard something Saturday night… “ Blaise.

“I heard something Sunday morning…” Theo. 

“You should really try being more discreet…” Astoria.

Draco wanted to hope that the others weren’t able to distinguish the fact that there were four people in his room over the weekend. But he knew his friends; they would have brought it up if they thought they’d heard something more than Pansy and Hermione’s screams. Apparently, they couldn’t tell the difference. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, Arse-toria,” Pansy snipped, making a note to start casting a silencing charm on their entire common room from now on; leaning further into Draco’s hold on her. She sat to his left, and she could feel, as she got closer, the hard beating in the blonde man’s chest. She didn’t chance a look up at him, because she didn’t want to look suspicious, and Draco did the same thing; the two always on a similar page.

This page was titled, “Don’t Let Everyone Know We’re Pissed About Their Shite Talk, and Don’t Let Them Know There Was More to the Weekend Than Was Already Noticed.” It was long… but, you know.

“I’m not telling you what to do, Pain-sy,” Astoria snapped back, though she looked amused, and not in the least offended. 

This was how the Slytherins talked to one another. It was like bro-talk, but there was genuine contempt. The Slytherin house was like prison; though, somehow, far more fun. They would take each other out by the kneecaps without a second thought, but if someone else tried to touch them they would band together and Italian karate someone; one held the offender, another punched them in the stomach until they spit blood.

No one understood this but them, and trash talking the Gryffindors was never a dull affair, nor was there a short of conversations on the subject; nor was the behavior ever stopped. 

It did, however, when the Prefect’s common room portrait swung open, and much to Pansy and Draco’s delight- exnay delight on the other three Slytherins- Harry and Hermione stepped in. Their faces were angry, and Harry, who liked to boss the Slytherins around as much as Hermione, said loudly,

“We would like a word with your Prefects… alone…”

“Who said you could just waltz in here and tell us what to do, Po-“

“I did,” Draco snapped, suddenly, loudly, causing Blaise to shut his trap, and the three hostile Slytherins to look at their “King” and “Queen” with shocked expressions. When Pansy and Draco continued to look at them with raised brows, they stood and moved towards the exit; their glares flitting to the four who needed “alone” time.

Theo, whose parents had been killed in the war, knocked his shoulder against Harry’s aggressively as he moved past him. The Gryffindor wizard, who looked pissed at the intrusion of his personal space, barked,

“Ten points, Knott.”

“Fuck you, Potter,” Theo replied with a snarl. Hermione glared at him, crossed her arms and said,

“Good luck making those points up during the Quidditch matches…” 

She said this as if she ever gave a fuck! And like she knew that the other two men had been ready to try out for the team Draco was captain of. The Slytherins knew she didn’t care, though she may have known the rest; she just wanted to be a snatch! 

Which made Draco and Pansy share smirks with each other, as if to say, “Check out the “honorable, honorary” Slytherin, Hermione Granger!”

When the door closed, Draco asked,

“What can we do you for? Come to start some pre-season bollocks, or did you just miss us?”

The Gryffindors, who had remained by the door, suddenly moved toward the Slytherins; Hermione straddling Pansy, who had sat up from Draco when the two had walked in, and Harry knelt with his legs on either side of Draco’s hips. 

They both leaned down simultaneously to kiss their respective, at the moment, Slytherin, who only responded in full.

(Fiend Club)  
We won't pretend that this is the end  
We're not losers all of the time  
We march and we fall  
We're one and for all  
It's just evil all of the time...  
All the time...


	10. This Magic Moment

It seemed the Slytherins had missed the Gryffindors as much as they had missed them; because no one even cared to mention anything about McGonagall; there were no apologies, no explanations as to why they had pretended the other pair didn’t exist… none of that was needed.

By the way they kissed each other- each pair kissing passionately before the Gryffindors switched laps- it was apparent to them all that the four hadn’t been happy about the sudden, silent separation. It was obvious it weighed on them, especially once Draco grabbed Hermione up, the witch wrapping her legs around his waist, and he started to carry her to his room.

When Harry let Pansy’s lips go to watch the other two retreat, the green tie witch grabbed her wand from her pocket and locked the portrait, and then cast a silencing charm as Harry backed off and stood before her. She smiled up at him as she stood, and he grabbed her up by the arse, and they copied the other two before following them through Draco’s open bedroom door.

Upon entering, the raven-haired pair watched for a moment as Draco pushed Hermione’s back against the wall to the left of the bed, twining her fingers in his before he moved them above her head, pinning her to the wall and leaning down to kiss her.

Harry set Pansy on the floor, and he turned her around to face the others, placing his lips to the back of her neck to whisper,

“I think the two of you missed us…”

“Don’t look too far into, Potter,” Pansy responded, waving her hand, which only made Harry raise his brow from where he stood behind her. “We just missed the way you fuck us.”  
Harry could only smile as he noticed Draco pull out his wand as his lips were locked on Hermione’s, suspecting the man had something up his sleeve- which Harry could sympathize with- and the raven haired man grabbed Pansy by her hips to turn her to face him, saying,

“I’ll take that,” he kissed her.

“You’d take more than that?” She asked, pulling away to look up at him with questioning dark eyes. From his peripheral vision, Harry could see Draco where had begun to charm Hermione, spread-eagle, against the wall, before he smiled at Pansy.

“I think-“he brought his hands up to snake into her hair to keep her facing him “- that I would take anything you’d give me.” He forced her back against the wall, and Draco moved to use the same charms on Pansy as he had Hermione. 

The witches’ eyes widened, and Harry smirked and stepped back, Draco doing the same. The blonde gave Harry a few nods of approval, before the raven haired man continued to the Slytherin witch,

“But I’ll settle with taking what you are already willing to give.” He waved his wand and spelled their clothes away; the garments landing in a draped pile over the desk near the door, leaving the witches bare.

The women’s eyes widened and both men grinned, which made Hermione roll her eyes and say,

“You two tossers are made for each other…” She was annoyed, but she was also beginning to feel the tingle in her core at being naked, and restrained by her wrists and ankles against a stone cold wall that made her nipples harden and her skin prickle.

“Merlin’s shoes, Potter!” Pansy said, astounded. “Where did..? Wait- I was going to ask where you learned that shite, and I realized your girlfriend is an encyclopedia.”

“No. This is all him,” Hermione said, not wanting to be lumped in with that Martian! Said Martian’s green eyes glinted with smug pleasure; and she wanted to both kiss and kill him.

She and Harry had… taken… to tying each other up. There had even been a little pain; Hermione suggesting he do so as a way for her to get over being tortured. It had helped… having someone she loved, and who loved her in return, cause her pain she enjoyed; rather than someone who hated her, who she loathed, cause her excruciating pain she thought she’d never forget.

Harry had helped her with that, and she trusted him… And the way that the dark haired man stood next to his blonde counterpart screamed trust. Or, at least a level of familiarity that meant that neither could truly surprise the other; and that somehow looked like trust. They could trust the fact that they knew the other, even if from afar.

Now, the question remained:

“What are you playing at, anyway?” Pansy asked. They shrugged, and Harry looked to Draco to ask,

“What were you playing at?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I was just trying my hand at something from your playbook,” Draco said, looking from Harry to Hermione, to Pansy, and back to the smirking Gryffindor man to say, “I wouldn’t have ever guessed that either of you would be into bondage…”

“You can thank your aunt for that,” Hermione growled, ignoring the look Pansy gave her, whatever it may be, to glare at the blonde. He almost flinched; if you didn’t know Draco Malfoy, you would think he hadn’t responded at all. But Hermione knew… so did Harry… so did Pansy…

The three stared at Draco before he said,

“I don’t understand how that has anything to with-"

“I had to get over being held against my will somehow. I had to get over being tortured somehow.” Hermione said, not sure how being stuck to a wall had turned to this conversation! Well- she supposed it could be within the realm of possibilities, but she hadn’t wanted to tell them… at least not yet!

“Gods… You are a genius,” Pansy said, and Hermione spared her tiny a smirk, and said,

“138…”before turning back to Draco, who said,

“That is an interesting way to cope...” He put his hands in his pockets and he tilted his head at Hermione; the look he gave her making her core clench once more. The feeling had dissipated once she’d talked about Bitchatrix The Insane; but Draco’s amused smirk, that also hinted at lust, made Hermione feel powerless.

She had decided she liked that feeling, just as much as she liked holding the power. Draco doing it to her, though… it felt so wrong!

But she liked that too… the “wrong”.

“This is good,” Harry said, crossing his arms and grinning at Pansy, saying, “Your turn. How do you cope with the fact that everyone hates you?” 

Hermione’s jaw dropped, and though she didn’t look at the other witch, the Slytherin witch did the exact opposite. It matched Draco’s face, which read, “Say one more bloody thing, Potter!”

Harry’s face read, “Try me, fuckers. Now spill.”

The room was quiet for moment while neither the Slytherin witch nor the Gryffindor man said a thing; the game ending once one cracked and spoke first. Hermione glanced to Draco, trying to writhe in the silence, who looked back at her with his lids lowers; which softened when they noted Hermione’s worry.

It’s not that she didn’t want to know what Pansy had to say about that entire situation… it was just that Harry always had this way of saying some shite to a person! You know?! His ability to be honest was often too brazen…

Speaking of brazen:

“Accio Pansy’s wand,” Harry said; the witch’s wand flying into his hand from her robe on the desk. He spun it between his fingers before inserting it- handle first- into its owner. Pansy was pissed, but Harry could tell that this move broke her a little. He watched her legs tremble as he pushed it in the first two inches, saying, 

“Hold it.”

She did, clenching her walls around her wand; whether out of surprise or want, no one knew. 

No one.

Harry stepped back and looked to Draco; the blonde was struggling, and Harry wanted to grin even wider than he was already. This was better than “getting on with it” to Harry, because he now had a bit of permission to grill the two Slytherins. Sure, they could do it in return, but they’d been fucking with him so long he hardly felt it anymore.

He was like the Karate Kid (Daniel-san) when it came to them. They’d harassed and picked for so long, there was little they could say to Harry that sparked anything but spite or pity. They’d done what they could before Voldemort, but now there was nothing they could do that would hurt more than what had transpired after Pansy opened her mouth; after Draco made so many shite decisions…

“I- you…“ Draco was struggling; his face was pink, and he was fighting the urge to glare and the urge to smile at the same time. Harry could fix this; so he said,

“Accio Hermione’s wand.” It flew from her robes, and after passing the witch’s wand to the blonde, Harry turned back to Pansy with a smirk, asking,

“How, Pansy? How do you deal with the fact that people still resent what you did? Hermione deals with the fact that people hate her blood, and her hate for Draco and his family, by letting me tie her down and fuck her face-” Hermione went red; bright fucking red. Ron red… 

“-Harry!” Hermione shrieked, before she felt her wand in her mouth. She looked up at the Slytherin man with wide eyes, and tried to pull away from him. He grabbed her by the jaw, and said,

“Hold it.”

When Hermione was released from the wall, she was going to officially be the one to kill Harry. And Draco… she’d wanted to kill him a few times; but he wasn’t blipping on her radar like her Gryffindor comrade.

She tried to pull away from Draco and he pulled the wand from her mouth, only to move the handle to her opening; making the witch tremble as she felt her body responding to the invasion, despite being slightly annoyed by the situation. 

“You should learn how to listen, Granger,” Draco said before he looked to Pansy, and used the back of his fingertips to slap the side of her arse, “You too. The Head Boy asked you a question.” Draco raised his brow at her.

“I- I- Draco!” Pansy snapped, before she glared at Harry, who smirked. “I- I don’t.” Harry’s smirk faltered, and he looked at her quizzically. She repeated, “I don’t.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked. Harry had an idea, but he wanted to hear what she thought it meant.

“I don’t deal with it. I ignore it. What do you do? Does Granger bugger you with your wand, or is this something fun and exciting just for me?” 

“This is for you…” He kissed her lightly, moving the wand in and out a few times, before leaning back to say, 

“What you think of me-” he continued to move the wand in and out of her, bringing moans from her lips through her glare. Grabbing the wood below the handle, he pushed it into until his hand stopped his, “- has never mattered to me, Pansy. You can sleep easy- knowing…“he brought his thumb up to press into her clit, and she gasped before she moaned; he brown eyes trained on him all the while, “- that I no longer give a fuck about that; and that I haven’t for a while.

“I don’t want this to sound crude, or morbid, or smug, but who cares if it does?

“I am here… and Voldemort is not. Though I also choose to live in denial from time to time- the years before now either some nightmare, or a fucked up reality- I won’t deny that this is helping me. 

“I no longer hate you… You are helping me deal with the fact that things have changed. The war is over… and we are still here; still facing our demons…”

Hermione looked from Harry to Pansy to Draco; her heart beating like a war drum against every rib- every vein- in her body as her eyes locked onto the blonde’s. The look on the Slytherins’ faces said enough for Hermione to know that Harry was speaking for all of them.

“So…” Harry, said pausing and licking his lips; uncertain of whether or not he should say what he was thinking. 

Hermione knew her best friend; better than anyone. Harry had gone from “The Man Who Still Listened to His Scar”, to the gentle soul he usually was. Hermione knew this switch, and she loved it. She loved him, and his ability to be soft and beautiful, and then be hard and unrelenting, and then back; but still be the same person. 

He was honest, and often times secretive; but he was loving and he brought those around him so much joy; but he could hate and he felt so much fucking pain… 

She knew it was his years of being plagued by Voldemort, and the fear of living in his closet, and the constant good within him that recognized the light in another person that caused him to struggle... That was why he’d made Hermione speak on Draco’s behalf; Harry knew that the Malfoy man was not all bite and venom; that he was a kid… Voldemort’s “Chosen One”.

An unfortunate child of circumstance.

“So…” Harry licked his lips, and looked at the now surprised- but softened- Pany Parkinson, saying, “… thank you for helping me deal. Even if you don’t want to deal with this yourself.” He pulled the witch’s wand from her, and he sighed, because he’d ruined “the mood” with his Voldemort talk.

“No. Don’t…” Pansy said, and Harry watched her face flush and her eyes flick down to her wand in his hand. Harry blinked, and felt his face muscles start the ghost a one-sided grin. She didn’t have to say anything else, because he put her hand wand back, and pressed his lips to hers.

(This Magic Moment)  
This magic moment, so different and so new  
Was like any other until I kissed you  
And then it happened, it took me by surprise  
I knew that you felt it too, by the look in your eyes


	11. Skulls

Draco looked to Hermione as she hung on his wall, staring back up at him with her lips parted and her eyebrows pulled together; her eyes uncertain. 

She looked vulnerable, and he felt vulnerable. Harry’s little speech screamed vulnerable. Pansy? She’d looked close to tears!

Draco hadn’t seen her cry in over a month, and before that, it had been when the school had turned on her. Since then, she hadn’t cried about it. Not a bit. She simply blocked it out, held her head up, and walked about like it hadn’t hurt her as much as it had. Some would call that courage, Draco knew it to be her cunning; because her act had made it seem she was as cold-blooded as everyone thought she was.

That worked for her… that worked for them.

But it was still bloody insane how they’d gone from tying the women to the wall and Harry spelling them naked, to them all feeling. Just feeling. 

This was supposed to be sex. Not that they had put that in blood, or anything. To think that it was supposed to be anything else hadn’t been a thought to Draco. Sure, he had wanted to get into Hermione’s knickers, and, sure, kissing Harry had been far better than he thought it was going to be when he’d considered it…

But that was it! Just ideas… some considerations… a little kissing… possibly more, but not that kind of more.

“Draco,” Hermione whispered, her chest moving with the deep breaths she was taking, “I- I hate you.” 

Draco gave an inward sigh, happy she hadn’t gone all sappy on him, and smirked before saying,

“I hate you too, love.” So much for not being sappy…

“Hey!” Pansy butt in suddenly as she pulled away from Harry’s kiss; a frown dawning on her full lips as she asked, “When did she become your “love”?” 

“Just now, love,” Harry answered for Draco, grabbing the raven-haired witch’s face to put his lips back to hers. Pansy seemed to take this as an acceptable answer, because she didn’t pull away from Harry again.

“Let me go,” Hermione said, pulling Draco back to what he should be thinking about, instead of the fact that there was some kind of fucked up love in the air!

“Absolutely not,” Draco said simply. “I plan on leaving you here for quite some time.”

Pansy watched, from the corner of her eye, as Draco went down on his knees before Hermione; and she bit Harry’s lip as she felt the ghost of the blonde’s tongue on her folds. It made her moans louder as Harry worked her wand in and out, and he moved his free hand up to breast, bending low enough to take nipple in his mouth.

She reacted instantly to the feeling of Harry’s tongue, and pressed her hips into his hand as she heard Hermione moan; causing Pansy to shudder and press harder against the man who was making her core clench and beg for more. She needed more. She would be almost jealous of Hermione being eaten out if Pansy didn’t know that she had the other woman’s man using her own wand on her as a sex toy.

Harry broke away from Pany’s nipple to look up and see what made his girlfriend sound like she was having a splendid time; before he looked back at her to ask,

“Jealous, love?” 

Pansy didn’t know why the sound of him using a pet name with her made her whimper, or why it sounded so fucking good to have Harry Potter whisper to her with lust. The witch could hardly will her head to shake a “yes”, as she was beginning to melt in the Gryffindor’s hands.

“This is one of those times that I want you to speak up, Pansy…” She shivered, and he said, “Tell me you’re jealous, and I’ll-“ he tipped his head to Draco, making Pansy look over and down to lock eyes with the blonde’s, taking in what features she could as he lapped and nipped at the other woman’s opening. Hermione was groaning and pulling against her restraints; moving her hips forward to meet Draco’s mouth.

“I…” Pansy trailed off as Harry began to move the wand unbearably fast, pinching her nipple, making the witch force a trembled, “I’m- jealous.” He smiled up at her, purring,

“Very good.”

He knelt down, removing the wand from her dripping opening, and he used her wetness to slide the wand back towards wall. Pansy shuddered as she realized what he was going to do, and tried to relax as she felt him press it up and into her. She gasped at the feeling- the sound both pained and pleased- and she felt herself clench around the wood.

“Harry!” Pansy snapped weakly as she pressed back against the wall, and pushed her hips forward towards the kneeling man.

Draco had been staring at Hermione’s face, allowing the expressions of ecstasy to feed his cock into a raging length of need. He needed her, but he also needed to hear her come.

He removed her wand, turned it in his fingers, and he “finite’d” the spell on her ankles; pulling the wand from her opening so he could wrap her thighs around his face and replace the wood with his tongue.

He gripped and palmed her arse; pressing her into him as he sucked and licked and probed. He loved the way she tasted, and he loved the way his greedy mouth made her back arch off the wall, and her hips to move forward to grip him as she began to quake.

“Draco!” Hermione screamed, “FuckI’mcoming!” 

“Oh, Merlin, Hermione!” Pansy yelled at the witch, angry that the sound of the other woman getting off affected her every time. It got her off to hear the uppity witch break in Draco’s grasp. “I can’t- I… Oh, yes! Harry! I’m coming too!” She felt her legs tremble and grasp the man’s face to her core, clenching around his tongue and her wand- which he still pumped in and out of her arse (as best he could)- and grinding herself into his face. 

She braced herself back against the wall as her body took off into space; the stars behind her eyes could be the evidence of the fact that she was no longer on earth. So gone was she that she hardly noticed as he pulled her wand out and her back came off the wall before she was on the mattress, Harry moving between her legs and pushing himself into her.

At the feeling of the his hard, thick length entering her- aided by his saliva and her cum- she felt a shudder wrack her body, and she was forced to open her eyes and finally look up at the man whom she used to despise.

Pansy felt nothing like that at the moment- pretty close to the opposite, actually- as the feeling of Harry pumping in and out of her became a grounding feeling. She had to reach up and grab onto his shoulders; daring to look him in the eyes; which only caused her to core to begin to reach for another climax.

“Pansy… You feel so bloody good…” The sound of him praising the way her pussy felt around him pushed her further, and she bit her lip to hold back the pleasured groan/gasps.  
“You feel bloody good! Your cock is amazing, Harry! I’m going to come again.”

Draco could hear that Pansy was getting close to edge again, even without her dirty talk; which only made Draco fuck Hermione harder. The witch below him was getting close once again; her face in the carpet as Draco rode her towards the ending he needed so badly.

He hadn’t wasted any time casting “finites” on Hermione’s wrists once her orgasm ebbed, and he pulled her down to the ground with him. He also hadn’t wasted any time grabbing her and moving her to her knees, sticking her perfect arse in the air, before he plunged into her. It may have been a little much for her at first, but he’d relented only enough to keep her on him; relishing the look of pleasure/pain on her features as she had one cheek on the floor.

Leaning forward, pressing his chest to her back, he said to her, “Your pussy is perfect. I never want to stop fucking it.” She moaned, and he felt her squeeze him; pulling a gasp from his lips as he began to move in and out of her the best he could as he continued, “I want to keep you and Harry here all weekend…” he moved to kiss her shoulder blades, her vertebra, “… and I want to make you come as many times as I can.”

“Yes… please, yes! Fuck me, Draco. Harder… make me scream.”

“Louder, Hermione,” Harry commanded from the bed, and Draco sat up to look up and watch, for just a second, as the Gryffindor pumped vigorously into “their girl”. The blonde let the image drive him as he turned back to Hermione, and quickened his pace as the witch screamed,

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, Draco! I’m going to come again!” 

“Come on me, Hermione,” Draco ground out before he felt himself suddenly come; forcing himself into her with jagged, brutal thrusts. The witch on his length began to pulse around him, and the blonde had to force himself to keep going as the feeling of coming as hard as he did felt almost painful.

But he persisted, bringing the Gryffindor over the edge with him as Harry grunted his own release into the witch below him on the bed; Pansy biting the flesh of her own inner arm as she tried to keep herself from making the noises that the other three loved all too much.

Draco didn’t know how he did it, but he grabbed the slumped Gryffindor from the floor, and threw her on the bed next to her red tie counterpart, before the blonde moved to lie next to his green tie witch. Pansy rolled over to pull him into a kiss, her smile bringing one to Draco’s own lips. 

He held her close as the four lay in silence and recovered.

(Skulls)  
The corpses all hang headless and limp  
Bodies with no surprises  
And the blood drains down like devil's rain  
We'll bathe tonight

I want your skulls


	12. Dust to Dust

“I should thank you… for speaking up for me at the trial,” Draco said as he passed Hermione his cigarette, who only smiled up and him and said,

“You’re welcome.”

“No problem, mate,” Harry said, leaning back on his palm flat hands. 

It was now, officially, three in the morning on Saturday, and the four had disillusioned themselves to walk through the halls with a bottle and a pack of fags. They now sat in a circle, facing one another, hanging out in the astronomy tower yet again. 

But, this time, sex had come first, and now they were having some sort of heart to heart... to heart to heart..?

“There was no way we were going to just sit back and watch you get buggered on by the man… You or your mum…”

“We’re sorry that we couldn’t do anything more about Narcissa, Draco,” Hermione said. Hermione, as most knew, was an advocate for rules, as well as an advocate for justice. 

When the gavel had dropped for Narcissa, declaring her ten year stint in Azkaban, Harry had to hold Hermione back; which hadn’t been easy because Harry had had to control himself in the process. 

“The Golden Trio” had believed that Narcissa’s one act of cunning absolved her of all guilt, but the Wizengamot had declared her decades alongside one of Voldemort’s most avid followers too much for forgiveness. Apparently, the Wizengamot didn’t believe in upholding the laws of the sanctity of marriage; nor did they believe the fact that Narcissa had been the one to tip the scales in their favor.

That, to Wizengamot, had been Harry, something the Gryffindor man wanted to spit on. 

He had thought to visit the Malfoy matriarch, but had left it at that. A thought… He hadn’t even told Hermione of the idea. He didn’t know how she would react to that. Just because you have forgiven someone doesn’t mean you want to see them or talk to them.

Luckily, though, things change.

“You don’t have to apologize for that. She knows,” Draco said solemnly. 

“How is she doing? Have you gone to see your parents?” Hermione.

“I don’t know how she is because neither are allowed visitors the first three months.” Draco.

“That’s bollocks!” Harry.

“I know…” Draco; with a sigh…

“Let’s go see her anyway!” Harry; who didn’t care that he was inviting himself.

“You want to see her?” Draco; who looked quite surprised by the thought. However, not put off by it.

“Of course! Not Lucifer, but I’d see her.” Draco frowned at Harry’s nickname for his father, “I’d actually thought about it before now, though.”

“You have?” This was said by the other three.

“Hell yes! Are you kidding?!” Harry.

“We should go right now!” Pansy yelled, the woman already quite intoxicated.

“That’s insane. We’d have no chance of getting in there.” Draco; who was obviously thinking a little more clearly than his lovers, especially once Hermione said,

“Lies! That’s what we thought when we broke into Gringott’s. We stole from those bastards; a Horcrux, and their dragon! We rode- a fucking dragon!” Hermione, who was also pretty drunk already, waved the bottle of fire whiskey around to emphasize her words. Harry shook his head, allowing the memory to cause him to laugh, thinking, ‘We’re so bloody insane…’

“Weasley can ride a dragon, but he can’t come back here? I mean, he’s the King of Courage, or whatever. I’m the King of the Cowards, and I’m sitting in the astronomy tower with you two!” Draco said, making Harry and Hermione glance at each other with looks of uncertainty. 

The Ron topic was still a bit of a taboo… 

He had no idea that Harry and Hermione were shagging, even though Hermione had called a break in their relationship once the two had finally slept together. It was a shite thing to do, yes. But it was already mentioned that they fucked up. No one else knew how much- though some suspected- nor did they know that they had continued to make mistakes; even after the war.

Ron still owled them weekly, at least, talking about how he felt like he was accomplishing something by helping the Ministry recoup from the war and its many losses. Not that they were all losses… Either way, Ron actually felt like talking to them a bit, and that had brought the two great joy and worry.

“He’s happier at the Ministry than he would be here…” Hermione started solemnly, “I think it was more courageous of him to admit that he can’t face it, even if he only admitted so to us…” Hermione said, and then sighed heavily. “He- he isn’t aware that Harry and I are together.”

“Oh, shite!” Pansy said with wide eyes. “I know I won’t be visiting him in Azkaban once he kills you two.” Both Gryffindors sighed loudly; dually annoyed and shamed.

“He really is going to kill us,” Harry said flatly.

“Not if I kill him first,” Hermione said with a sigh.

“Yes, Granger! Yes!” Pansy said, going to her wobbly knees and pointing at Hermione with a grin. “That sounds splendid! Then I can visit both you and Narcissa at the same time! Oh, fuck! We should go right now!” Pansy yelled with a grin, moving to stand; forced to use her hands because her legs weren’t enough on their own.

“Adventure time!” Hermione yelled and stood with her. “Wait. Are we going to Ron’s or Azkaban?”

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed Hermione’s hand, pulling her back down, and Draco grabbed Pansy by the hips and pulled her down onto his lap. Hermione pouted, and Pansy followed her lead, deploying her bottom lip at the blonde she sat on.

“Calm down, crazies.” Draco said with a chuckle. “When it is time to go visit my mum- we should probably avoid Weasley - I think I would actually like it if you all went with me. Mum would know you’re still around…” Draco gripped Pansy by her ribs and she yelped as he tickled her for a second. Draco was drunk. “… and it would mean a lot to her if you two showed up, as well.”

“Oh Merlin, let’s go right now! I also want to stop by Shacklebolt’s, punch him in the dick and yell, “You know why!” Because that verdict was bloody ridiculous!”

“I saw you there!” Hermione said, moving to sit on Harry’s lap, the man happy to oblige his woman. “Did you see Harry have to hold me back?”

“I did! Let’s go to Shacklebolt’s!” Pansy tried to get up again, and Draco held her, shaking his head and saying,

“Alright. No more for you, Pans. You get all- Gryffindor-ish on me when you drink. Next, I suspect you’ll be stealing from Gringott’s and riding dragons!”

“I already ride a dragon,” she purred suggestively before she began to bite his neck.

“Ha!” This was both Harry and Hermione.

“Awesome…” This was just Harry, with a huge grin.

“Life is- bollocks! I wish we all could have done this before now… Things might have been easier if we had.” Hermione said dreamily, drunkenly, pulling Pansy away from Draco’s neck to look at her with a grin.

“Oh- jog on, Hermione,” Pansy said. “Just be happy it’s happening now. Live in the now! That’s the problem with you Gryffindors. You think too much about the past and the future, when the now is the big picture.”

“How very Slytherin and self-serving of you… If we only concentrated on the now, we would have taken your oh-so infamous suggestion,” Hermione replied, lifting a brow in challenge. Pansy should have noticed she was walking into that one, but she was tipsy. She glared, and said,

“Yes. Back to that, I see.” Draco wrapped his arms around her middle, and tried to not look as annoyed about Hermione’s statement as he felt. Sure, they were up here to do a little talking, which translated to “bonding” to Draco.

They were “a thing” after all, and with that came the prospect of dealing with some of their past bollocks. 

“I’m sorry, ok?” Pansy said, remembering the feeling of vulnerability from earlier when Harry had her stuck to the wall. “That… that was a horrible suggestion. I knew so beforehand, but I said it anyway. And I’m sorry for that, ok?”

“Pans…” Harry started, taking a moment to glare up at Hermione before looking back to the Slytherin witch, “I have already forgiven you. Don’t let… Sauced Hermione get to you.”

“I’m not sauced,” Hermione said, before turning to Pansy to say, “And I’m sorry I said that. It’s just-“she sighed loudly and folded her arms over her chest, “- we sacrificed a lot to figure out Voldemort’s past, all so that we could ensure a future... And those sacrifices still haunt me all of the time.”

Pansy gulped, and she looked down at the floor in shame. Draco leaned his forehead against her neck, but remained silent as he listened, knowing she was talking about her parents now…

Bonding was hard!

“And I’m sorry I said that. I know we owe you a million thanks for things we probably aren’t even aware of… So, thank you for being your Gryffindor selves and giving more of a shite than we did,” Pansy said. Hermione smiled at her, and nodded.

“You’re welcome,” the Gryffindors chorused.

“And thanks- for still talking to us,” Draco added.

“Thanks for learning humility,” Hermione said, and Pansy rolled her eyes, and Draco lowered his lids and shook his head at the Gryffindor. For one so smart, she was fucking impetuous. 

“Are you always this rude when you drink?” The raven-haired woman asked the brunette one. Said brunette cracked a grin at Pansy and grabbed her by the back of the neck to pull her into a kiss. When she broke away, she said,

“I think so.” She then leaned over a little to kiss Draco on the cheek. “Sorry, Draky. I get a little “brash” when I’m intoxicated.”

“Oh- I noticed, Granger.” 

“Back to last names it is, then, Malfoy?” Hermione jumped off of Harry’s lap to wrap her arms around the Slytherin pair, knocking them onto their backs; leaving the raven-haired man to try and keep a grip on the whiskey bottle as the force knocked him onto his own back.

Draco was pressed to the floor by the two witches on top of him, and he had to smile as he heard Pansy begin to laugh her high-pitched laugh; Hermione tickling the woman as she thrashed and tried to roll away.

“Oh no you don’t!” Hermione yelled, moving on her hands and knees to advance on her victim; the Slytherin witch still giggling as she struggled to crawl away. 

They were all really drunk.

“Who’s up there?” Filch suddenly yelled from below them. 

The four students froze, their faces turning into looks of shock as they held their breath. They had cast a silencing charm on their level of the astronomy tower, but that didn’t mean shite to Mrs. Chuck Fucking Norris! They could hear her mewing incessantly on the level below, and all four students jumped to their feet, Harry saying,

“I have my invisibility cloak, but that’s not going to help us. Trust me.”

“You do?!” Pansy asked Harry, her drunken mind momentarily forgetting they were about to get busted. Again! McGonagall was bound to blow up if they were found drunk in the tower.

“I have my broom,” Draco said. The other three looked to him with questioning eyes. 

“Why?” Harry asked. Draco shrugged, and said,

“In case I throw myself off the edge but then decide to save myself halfway down.” Harry gave a short fit of morbid laughter before saying,

“Let’s go!”

Draco grabbed his broom from his pocket, spelled it back to full scale, and he mounted it. Pansy climbed on behind him, and Harry threw Hermione on the back, saying,

“Close your eyes, ‘Mione.” Pansy watched her do so, and noted that Filch was already within her viewpoint as he walked up the spiraling staircase, his back to them, at least for the moment. Harry jumped on, and three of the four of them kicked off; Hermione holding onto to Pansy for dear life.

Draco steered the struggling broom out and around the tower, all of them hoping like hell that Filch hadn’t seen them as they left, and he slowly lowered them to land in dark corner of the courtyard. They dismounted, Pansy noticing how Hermione struggled to let go of her at first, and she had to turn and ask,

“The pretty Gryffindor doesn’t have enough courage to fly a broom, but she’ll fly a dragon?”

“That was balls scary! But brooms… there so much less to them! I feel like I’m going to slip off the end or something!”

“Pull a Longbottom?” Draco asked the fearful witch of courage; giving her a cheeky grin as the four remained concealed in their dark alcove. Hermione frowned at him, and Harry looked to be giving a dopey grin.

“I love that bloke,” Harry said. “I want to send him to fencing school, or something. I would hate to say it, if the circumstances had been any different, but he’s much better with a sword than a wand.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Pansy said, her mind bringing her the image of a Gryffindor sword toting Neville Longbottom; the man on a rampage. She giggled drunkenly.

“Speaking of dangerous, we should get back to our dorm,” Harry said, and then quickly added with a shrug, “Or dorms.”

Draco looked to Pansy, and she gave him an impish grin and shrugged at him. The blonde wasn’t opposed to “staying the night”, considering they had done so many times already; and the fact that it was already, technically, morning. They had no classes to worry about, and rounds didn’t start for them until after dinner.

“To the Head dorm, then?” Draco asked, raising a brow at his Gryffindor lovers. They smiled at him, and Harry nodded.

“Let’s see that cloak,” Pansy said, holding her hand out to Harry. “Can we all fit in it?” He passed it to her, and she began to inspect it as one normally did; grabbing a corner and flipping it over and then back again to watch as her hand disappeared behind it.

“Only if we all stand really, really close…” Hermione said with a smile, grabbing Harry and moving for the four to stand huddled together, before Draco helped Pansy attempt to pull it over them.

After about four minutes - and after Pansy fell back onto her arse- they failed in that particular adventure, and they had to use the Great Hall floo to get to bed instead.

(Dust to Dust)  
With these final words, I pull the switch  
We turn to dust  
Dust to dust  
My name is like the kiss of death, then we embrace  
We turn to dust


	13. Die, Die My Darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should have warned all of you that I like to take moments from both the books and the in this particular fic. There are some movie moments I appreciate, and therefore will be mentioning two or three. Otherwise, it's book canon, so be at ease.

It was already the first week of October, and our four protagonists were buzzing with pre-game jitters; the second match of the season between the rival houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin was about to begin!

Though the four had managed to keep their, what was now, free nights of sexual solitude to themselves, they were unaware that they were in for a bit of hell. 

The Monday after their weekend in the hay, try outs were held, and Harry and Draco had glared at one another as the Gryffindors, who had had try outs after the Ravenclaws, passed the Slytherins on their way onto the pitch. 

The air had been tense, but neither captain had jumped to make a move; so the two groups of aggressive, hormonal teenagers with PTSD passed one another in silence and spite, and had resigned to leave all malice for the pitch. (Sports… *sigh*)

But that day had come! And the Head Boy and male Slytherin Prefect were staring at each other from across the pitch in the waiting bays. Sure, they could hardly see one another- both dressed in opposing colors, wearing matching glares- but they knew…

The sex had escalated quickly over the past weeks, and Draco had made the ultimate bet between the two men. One that would live in mother fucking infamy.

Who had to be on bottom first?

It was simple; all basic rules were left standing… and the one who held the snitch in the end, well… got to put it in the other’s… end.

It had not gone unnoticed by the witches in their love square that the men were on edge; both having been worried when their lovers had decided on the grounds of their bet. 

Hermione had thought to stop it, but she knew that the words had been spoken, and the damage had been done. Now she and Pansy had to sit across from one another, and watch while pretending not to be worried.

And for good reason.

So, as Madam Hooch stepped out onto the field, the two teams followed her; the screams and cheers from the crowd deafening as the teams approached their positions and took into the air.

Hermione tried not to scream as everyone else around her did; the energy high as Hooch blew her whistle to begin the match. She watched as “hers and Pansy’s Seekers” took off in opposite directions; searching their surroundings whilst also avoiding the bludgers that were already flying in their directions.

Hermione hated Quidditch; not just because she hated flying, or the fact that the rowdy crowds always made her responsible side frown in disapproval. But, mostly, because she didn’t want to see Harry, or Ron, hurt.

But, now, there was an entirely different form of unease in her stomach as she wished and prayed that the two men didn’t hurt one another in an attempt to win; knowing that they didn’t much care about the outcome- though they should- but instead caring more about the fact that they loved to one up one another. They loved to show off, and now it was made worse by the fact that the one who lost was to be dominated by the other.

Hermione shook her head as she watched; and her heart began to race once more when Justin Flinch-Fletchley announced,

“I- I think- yes! Potter sees the snitch! Cheating- spectacle wearing tosser! Go Harry, go! Whoops! Sorry. I’m indifferent.”

Harry heard Justin yelling, but couldn’t make his words out over the sound of the wind rushing past him. He could hear that Draco was close behind him, and he turned back, for just a second, to look at the blonde who smirked at him in return.

“Keeping your eyes on the prize?” Draco yelled, Harry reading his lips more than hearing his words. He glared, and turned around.

Without realizing it, Harry almost flew into a fifth year Slytherin beater who’d flown close to swing at him. Harry ducked and swerved, and was barely able to recover enough to leave him and Draco neck and neck; closing in on the snitch as they copied its swoops and twitching movements. 

“Trying to kill yourself, Potter?” Draco asked; ascension, drop, duck, “I would, if I were you!” duck, the swooshing of wind. Harry fumed, pissed that he was letting Draco’s shite talk bother him.

This was Quidditch; anything goes! 

Harry kept this in mind as he called back, eyes on the snitch as they neared it,

“You should do us all a favor and kill yourself!”

“No way! People are tired of watching you cry over me!”

“I don’t even know how you could say that! You’re a whiney bitch who let Voldemort hug you!”

“It’s better than letting him kill my mum! You should know how that feels!”

“Fuck you, and fuck your mum!”

Draco stopped, wide-eyed, and both men stopped flying as the snitch flew off somewhere; the game no longer relelant to the seekers. 

Hermione screamed loud as fuck, along with a few others; the second she watched Draco punch Harry in the face- the Gryffindor pummeling some fifteen feet to the ground- she was on her feet and running for the stairs without a second look. 

She listened as Justin continued to yell,

"I think Malfoy's spotted the snitch! He's diving for it! No, wait! He's just diving to punch Potter! Foul! Why isn't anyone calling foul? And now Potter's on the ground. And Malfoy's followed him to continue to pummel him. Potter socked him back! Good one Harry! It's an all-out brawl, folks!”

Hermione’s blood was boiling and thrumming with her heart beat, and she wanted to scream again when she reached the bottom of the stairs to see the two men wrestling on the ground; Draco on top of Harry and punching him in the face, while Harry had his own fist balled and he hit Draco in return.

“Ooooooohhhhh... Ouch! Blimey!” Then Justin chuckled as he continued to watch and commentary on the scene that was making Hermione’s heart beat uncontrollably hard. 

When Madam Hooch landed, yelling something Hermione couldn’t hear over the sound of the crowd screaming, and she raised her hand at the men, yelling, 

“Accio Draco!” It didn’t send him flying at her; it only pulled him off of Harry and back a couple of meters in her direction.

“Someone just accio'd Malfoy off of Potter!” Justin yelled through his mic, “It's... Hermione Granger? What?! And now, Pansy Parkinson seems to be rushing to the aid of Potter! Folks, I think that I’ve lost-my fucking mi-" and that was when he got cut off.

As Hermione ran, she looked up just long enough to see that Justin’s words were true, and that Pansy was on her way to Harry; all of this leading Hermione to stop the second she reached the blonde. She went down on her knees to inspect him- the man covering his face where he was sure to be either bruised or bleeding- while also screaming,

“What the fuck happened?! You can’t be fighting!” 

She hadn’t stopped them in time to keep Draco’s face from already looking like purple pulp, and she chanced a look up at Pansy and Harry; the Slytherin witch shouting at Harry’s purple, bleeding face- along with Madam Hooch- while also holding his face in her hands.

The rest of the Professors had begun storming the field to break up the brawling students; but that didn’t do much once the fight broke out in the stands, causing Madam Hooch to leave and for Pansy and Harry to look over at Draco and Hermione.

“What did you say? He… doesn’t get his hands dirty! Ever!” Pansy asked, sounding panicked. Harry hadn’t been able to talk to her, because Hooch standing over-head and screaming had been too much to bear. The crowd roared and shifted and it was too much for Harry, and he was hardly able to yell,

“Too much… to say…now…” Harry said, his face hurting like hell. His Slytherin “girlfriend” made to help him stand, with saddened, angry eyes, saying,

“You two are in so much trouble! What if you get your positions taken away?” 

Harry didn’t want to hear it; he didn’t want to think about what that would entail, and he tried to stand and push Pansy away… only for him to stumble and nearly fall. He would have succeed in this had Pansy not been there, and ever so slightly more stubborn. 

She stood under his arm, draping it over her shoulder- to which he clung to for more than just physical stability- and she started to walk him off the field, just as Hermione had helped Draco to his feet; the men avoiding each other’s gazes.

The two witches stared at one another as they began to walk their men off the pitch, and hardly noticed- while nagging and listening to the men’s groans- the fact that the roaring stadium began to quiet… until silence hit the four like a ton of bricks.

Looking up and turning around, the four realized that the two rival house women had fucked up as much as the men! The entire school was looking at them like they’d all becoming one… Martian! Like they’d melded into “The Thing” and they were walking across the field.

The student body gaped at them, the professors, the staff. All of their faces read, “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Harry groaned as he made to turn, and Pansy did as well as she allowed him to continue resting on her. The jig was up now, so there was no use in fighting it; no use in pulling away and trying to lie... It was just a bum deal that trying to keep them a secret had been ruined by their big mouths.

Well, maybe not ruined, per se; they hadn’t moved to kiss one another, but it was obvious to anyone with even one eye that the two pairs were comfortable with each other; and the fact that neither rival girl or rival boy was making a fuss about the mix-matched parings.

As if… they “swung” that way.

“Draco,” Hermione said. “What did he say?”

The blonde had remained quiet and obviously remorseful the entire time the school had its third battle, and Hermione had wanted to move Draco out of there before another Gryffindor spotted him. She had been happy that Pansy was taking care of Harry, until reality set in and her adrenaline ebbed.

“We… said some shite about each other’s mums…” Draco said, causing Hermione to nearly drop him, and she had to fight the urge to kill him herself before she yelled,

“How dare you, Draco Malfoy!” Then she turned to Harry to yell, “Harry! How dare you say something about her!” Then she yelled at both of them, “I should punch you both my-self!”

She did no such thing, though we all know she would!

Hermione stopped yelling; even as the two couples reached each other, and the two men stood a meter away. The crowd seemed to be holding their breath as they watched Hermione yell at Draco like she was his wife; and the Slytherin man take it like he was her husband; and then the two pairs came to stand a mere meter apart.

The crowd remained silent- even McGonagall, though she was walking towards them- and some tried to listen as Draco said loudly,

“Your fucking mum, Potter!”

“I’m sorry, ok?” And then Harry nearly yelled , “But you’re the one who started that fucking bollocks!”

“I know I was!” Draco yelled back at him, “No holds barred, remember?!”

“That was too fucking far, Draco!”

“You went too fucking far, Harry!”

“I know, and I’m sorry, ok?” Harry ground out through a bleeding lip.

“Louder,” Draco said, pulling another play from "Harry Potter's Power-game Playbook”, glaring through the pain in his blackened eye. He wanted to jump on Draco and throttle him to death. It was the least he deserved…

Harry had started to trust him, and the feelings had been quite mutual; but Draco should have never breached any of the subjects he had.

But, it had been no holds barred...

“Fuck!” Harry yelled, holding his face afterward, before he yelled through the pain, “I’m sorry!”

“You two- are going to be sorry!” McGonagall yelled. “To my office! Now!” The Headmistress pointed through the gates and up towards the school, and the four students began a long, and foreboding journey to the castle.

(Die, Die My Darling)  
Come cryin' to me now baby  
Your future's in an oblong box, yeah  
Come cryin' to me oh baby  
Should've seen it was coming on  
Come crying to me now baby  
Had to know it was in your palm


	14. Hybrid Moments

The walk through the halls was so awkward.

Draco pretended that his arm around Hermione was an everyday thing. Well, it had been, but no one had known that half an hour ago. The four were so comfortable with each other, Draco had to wonder if it had stunned the Headmistress into silence.

She said nothing as she trailed her students; none of them pulling apart as the students who didn’t enjoy Quidditch watched their injured Gryffindor Head Boy lean on the Slytherin prefect who had tried to sell him out; and their Muggleborn Head Girl support the Pureblood Slytherin Prefect who used to call her derogatory names.

Everyone gawked, but the two couples and the Headmistress paid them little mind as they walked; all five used to being stared at.

The blonde chanced a look back at the elder witch, and it had been just long enough to see that she looked as curious as the random students, yet still angry and determined in her gait. Her hazel eyes locked onto his own silver, and she lifted a brow at him before her eyes darted to Hermione.

Draco turned from her and held Hermione closer; no longer giving any fucks. He was the king of his own castle, now… Draco made Draco’s decisions; and just as much as he wanted to keep Hermione and Harry around, he also wanted to “Avada” the red tie wizard for saying such a thing about Narcissa Malfoy.

Harry, and everyone else… owed Narcissa everything… But that only made Draco realize that they also owed Lily Potter a lot as well… He had heard what the Golden Trio had deduced about Tom Riddle and his past, and how Lily’s love, along with Narcissa’s, had saved Harry… and Draco had said foul things about her just as much as his old rival; his new lover.

But, even with the testimony, Narcissa had been considered too deep into the Dark Lord’s plans to be deemed innocent…

Draco tried not to think on it much longer as he looked over to Harry, feeling some guilt as he noticed the man’s limp; regretting the fact- and yet still enjoying it- that he’d punched him off his broom. He could have killed him!

Draco hated it when his face twitched with happiness and sadness… it was so fucking confusing!

Pansy noticed that her green clad lover looked to the red clad man who leaned against her, and she brought her hand up to cup his face. He glanced down at her, and she saw him give her a small smile. 

“From the way you are both moving, I suspect that you can make it to my office before you visit Madam Pomphrey,” McGonagall said just before they reached the stairway that would take them to the infirmary. Instead, they took another stairway, and they walked- somewhat slowly- towards the Headmistress’ office.

When they reached the Gargoyle guarded staircase, McGonagall moved in front of them and led them into the her office; where the women led the men to the two chairs that sat before the large desk. Hermione began to work on Draco’s eye, and Pansy began to fish through her pockets for the potions she’s brought with her to the game.

That had been Hermione’s idea.

When the elder witch sat behind her desk, she glared at Draco and Harry; both them trying like hell not to make eye contact. They knew what awaited them; the walk through the halls had given them enough time to come to terms with the fact that they were staring expulsion in the face!

“I cannot express the level of disappointment that I feel in you two!” McGonagall was on the verge of yelling as she began; her voice so loud that it startled Dumbledore’s portrait from its nap; forcing the old man to ask loudly,

“What is it? What happened?” 

The two former Transfiguration Professors looked at one another, the female sounding beside herself with rage as she answered,

“Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are still at it each other’s throats! Draco- punched Harry during a Quidditch match, and he fell off of his broom!” 

“Oh, yes…” Dumbledore stared at the two men over his spectacles, before saying, “They look to be alive… Boys will be boys, Minerva.” 

Draco knew Dumbledore said this because he obviously no longer gave a shite now that he was dead. The blonde tried not to look nervous when Snape’s portrait frowned down at him in disapproval; but refrained from throwing in his two sickles. His face said enough.

“Yes, Albus. I am aware of that,” McGonagall snapped, sounding further irritated by the men in the room. “What you two did was beyond any offense I thought you capable of! I highlighted your books as a precaution. I did not think that it had actually been necessary!” Draco looked to Harry; both aware that McGonagall had given them both a fair warning. “I did not think that you, Draco, would actually harm Harry after all he’s done for you.”

Pansy looked to the men, the two younger witches having healed them a bit, and she noted how they both slumped in their chairs at McGonagall’s words; both looking guilty as they remained silent. It forced the elder witch to ask in a crazed voice,

“What in Merlin’s name happened?!”

“They were talking about each other’s mums,” Hermione said as the men remained silent. Pansy looked to the red tie witch, who spared her a glance, before the green tie witch decided to stand beside her female lover to say,

“I think- though you may not care…” Pansy rolled her eyes, but had to hold back a smirk as she said, “… that nearly any punishment you choose would be justified, Headmistress.” The elder witch’s eyes widened, but Pansy didn’t allow her to cut in.

“I, personally, think that stripping them of their Head and Prefect titles would do,” the three other students gasped loudly, “Or, you could even take away their positions as Captains-“

“What?!” Both men chorused, and Draco moved to cradle his face once more.

“-I even think a month or two of detention would suffice-“

“-And what of expulsion, Miss Parkinson?” McGonagall cut her off, her voice stern. It made the Slytherin want to slink into a corner, and she, without thinking, grabbed onto Hermione’s hand as she stole the red tie’s Gryffindor courage to say,

“I would consider that agreeable as well. If I were in your position, after all of these years of watching these two bitch and whine and fight, I probably would have expelled them on the spot.” Pansy felt Hermione’s hand squeeze tightly, almost painfully. But she was now used to a little pain inflicted on her by her “girlfriend”, and she ignored it as she noted the amused lift of the Headmistress’ brow. 

“But what good do you think that would do, Headmistress?” Pansy asked. “Do you think that would benefit your students? Students who you felt performed well enough to be given titles that you chose? That you know they are best suited for, even in light of the situation.

“I think it would be detrimental, and I wonder how much more you could handle it- knowing that these two sad bastards are left to their own devices- with no one to go home to.” Hermione’s hand squeezed Pansy’s again, but it was a softer caress, one to show her agreeance of the Slytherin’s choice of words. 

Pansy returned it, and took the Headmistress’ stunned silence as permission to continue,

“If I was left with your choice- and I’d managed not go with my initial urge and avoid expelling them; and believe me when I say made some difficult choices of my own, and understand if you still choose to do so-“ Pansy licked her lip in uncertainty, “I would take away their privileges to participate in Quidditch this season.”

“Done,” McGonagall said definitively. 

“Pansy!” Harry and Draco, again; their tones still just as angry.

“Neither of you are allowed to talk anymore,” Hermione snapped, turning to glare at the men. They stared at their women with wide eyes. Draco looked to Harry, who glowered at him; to which the blonde responded by talking, saying.

“You’re such a fuck arse.”

“I’m going to fuck your-“

“Stop!” Hermione screamed, “You two tossers are going to get yourselves expelled! If you could both stop thinking with your cocks, you’d’ve known better than to engage in this… nonsense! You’re lucky that your Quidditch privileges are all you got taken from you!”

“Not quite, Miss Granger. They also get detention every Monday and Friday night, for two months, because I know you don’t have rounds those nights, so you both must work diligently to keep up. You’ll be done just before Christmas holiday,” McGonagall said, causing the men to groan, and Pansy knew she fought one of her own. Hermione probably had as well, because those were “their nights”. 

Their Saturday nights were taken up with rounds, and Sundays were spent catching up on homework and trying not to cover too many pieces of parchment with… stuff... It was hard, but they’d managed somehow. Thank Merlin for magic, because last weekend’s potions assignment had been particularly fun; Girding potion; which allowed the drinker extra stamina. 

The four had a batch brewing in Hermione’s room as they spoke. 

“But-“the elder witch started once more, her voice still firm, “-I must commend whatever comradery you have shown the school…” The four students blinked, because she still sounded somehow angry, “Though you boys showed them hate, you ladies showed them compassion by helping the boy from your rival house.

“So, with that said, I will only be taking fifty points from your houses instead of one hundred. I will be choosing new captains for the teams, and today’s match with be rescheduled without you.

“Now, get out of my office before I realize I just listened to advice from Miss Parkinson.” 

Pansy wanted to scoff, and the others almost chuckled, but knew that McGonagall’s funny was for her enjoyment alone.

(Hybrid Moments)  
Ooh baby when you cry   
Your face is momentary   
You hide your looks behind these scars

In hybrid moments   
Give me a moment


	15. Bruiser

“The two of you need to talk to each other!” Pansy yelled at Draco as she paced before him; irritated, confused, angry… sad… worried!

She had not expected- sitting between Daphne and Astoria- that the two Seekers would end up Muggle beating one another; both men just behind the snitch before they paused in mid-air. When Harry had begun to plummet to the ground, Draco followed him to dismount and land just beside the Gryffindor, straddling him to hit the seemingly unconscious man.

The Slytherins around Pansy erupted into a mixed matched frenzy of fright and excitement; half of them happy for Draco’s decision, and the others mortified that he would do such a thing. Pansy was with the latter group as she raced from the stands and down the stairs; chastising herself, angry she’d allowed them to make a bet. 

Obviously, she should have known better, considering she agreed with Hermione’s request for potions, but she’d been horrified by Draco’s actions none-the-less!

By the time she’d reached Harry, both men had done quite a number on each other, and she had been beside herself with panic. But, when the Man Who Death Followed but Couldn’t Bloody Grasp looked up at her with tears of pain and anger, she felt her heart skip a beat; her mind not realizing that she had become so attached to him. 

Nor had she and Hermione noticed that they had pulled a number of their own. Now the school knew that the four had at least been becoming friends… Whether or not they figured out that their friendship sparked behind closed doors was still up in the air. 

And that was very important, you see, because the sixth and seventh year Slytherins still had their… issues… with the Head Boy and Girl. Some very serious… deep rooted… mother fucking issues that even the end if the war hadn’t cured.

Pansy and Draco hadn’t left their common room in hours; they’d silenced the room and the blonde man sat to brood in an armchair near the fireplace the second they arrived-and hadn’t moved- as Pansy lay into him. She’d swore, she’d screamed… She might have pulled her wand…

The witch had been fighting herself- for three hours, now- and her need to go find Hermione and Harry, and force the two men to come to their commons and talk.   
At this point, she was at the point of an internal- and external- nervous breakdown! 

When did she become concerned by the fact that their tryst was possibly over? Did that mean it was more than that? Sure, she knew she liked the Gryffindor couple; and she fancied a good shag from them… But to be on the verge of a break down because she thought there was no way to go back to that morning...

That very morning where Pansy had awoken tangled in Hermione’s hair as the woman held her close; Draco’s chest pressed against her back, and Harry’s chest pressed against Hermione’s back. She’d been warm and cozy laying with them, and she hadn’t wanted to pull away; but had been forced to do so five minutes later when all four of their alarms went off. 

They hadn’t missed a minute of class since Minerva had scolded them.

“Will you stop pacing, Parkinson? You’re… raining…” 

“Fuck you, Malfoy! We saved your arses back there and you know it!”

They resorted to last names when they were really upset at each other… It made things easier. It was the alternative to them having to come out and say, “My love... You are making me chaffed.”

The Slytherin witch hadn’t realized that she’d been getting lightly rained on by a cloud that hovered over-head. All she had been able to think about was Hermione’s light kisses, and Harry’s fierce commands for Pansy to open her mouth wider; not the fact that she was becoming soaked in a way she didn’t like as much as the other…

She didn’t want any of that to stop, and she knew Draco hadn’t either.

Why she and Hermione hadn’t told the men to shut up when they’d agreed to, “No rules; no holds barred” was beyond her. She should have known that a month of them “being together” wouldn’t fix years of contempt.

Besides, she and Draco shared a common character flaw; it was called, “Big Fucking Mouth Syndrome”.

Speaking of;

“Draco Malfoy! You and Harry are going to apologize to one another, and then you are going to kiss and make up!” Pansy walked to him, grabbed him by his still healing hands and pulled the blonde to his feet. She forcefully shoved him to the side of the fireplace, towards the powder, and said to his glaring face, “Because this is not over… Hermione and I are in this too, and neither of us want this to end! That is why I stuck up for you both; because I don’t want this to end.

“Now get your skinny arse in that floo, and go to the Head dorm and apologize… before I have to go in there and drag that un-killable tramp back here by his hair!” Pansy noticed Draco’s smirk at her reference to Harry’s “Gryffindor sluttiness”, but he schooled himself back into his frown in a second.

“Ladies first…” Draco said, holding an open palm-up hand to the floo powder.

“Precisely. Get your sniveling arse in that fireplace, little girl.”

“I don’t want to talk to him, ok? I’m- pissed, which I know you know! I am also pissed that you and Hermione had to step in. Either way, we’re walking on thin ice! And I can’t see him right now, or I might hit him again!”

“Why? Because you can’t admit that you were wrong for saying that about Mrs. Potter? Is that what you’re really mad about?”

“No!”

“Well you should be! He’s- he’s your mate… and your lover, whether you’ve shagged each other or not! What you said was unbelievable!”

“That’s rich… You’re a hypocrite.”

“Fuck you, Malfoy! This isn’t about me! This is about admitting that you were just as wrong as he was, if not more so for punching him!”

“He deserved it! What he said was unbelievable!”

“So unbelievable that you had to punch him?”

“Fuck you, Parkinson!”

“How about you go concede to Harry and get fucked, yourself, mate. Because I don’t want to hear any more of your defensive, lying bollocks… Go up there, right now, and make up with him!”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes, or so help me I will tell everyone that we’re all shagging- because you know that someone is bound to ask that question now.”

Draco, who had stepped away from the fireplace to glower down at Pansy, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her close to whisper,

“I know… We’re going to have figure out a way to deal with our housemates after this. Any suggestions?” 

And, just like that, the two were back to scheming together once more…

“We could say yes, and let them wonder if we’re telling the truth.”

“They’d know we were telling the truth…”

“Then we’ll deny it… Laugh it off, so to speak.”

“They’d know we’re telling them lies…”

“You could make up with Harry and then tie him to the Gryffindor table and proceed to show him, and everyone else, exactly who lost your bet.”

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

“I know.”

Draco grabbed Pansy by the hips and pulled her into the bulge that began to grow in his pants at her suggestion. The image that came with her words had hit the blonde right in the gut, and he wanted to share what he thought about her filthy mouth. He ground himself into her stomach, and leaned down to kiss her savagely, before pulling back to growl,  
“But I hate it- when you manipulate me…” Pansy had to smile at this, because he was a cheeky tosser. He continued to speak as he grabbed her arse, a cheek in each hand, and continued to grind, “But I might have to make that suggestion a reality one of these days…”

“My love?” Draco asked, stopping his sexual advance as his mind had a thought he couldn’t keep from her.

“Yes?” She asked.

“You- truly fancy them, don’t you?” 

Pansy pulled away with this, and she let her brain soak in his words… let her body react to the feelings that came with them. She shook her head as she looked up at him, and shrugged, before saying,

“I don’t know… Perhaps, but I think it’s just a little fun.” She didn’t know why, but she felt like she was lying! Her heart said she was, but her brain said she was spot on.

Draco, who knew what she looked like when she lied, said,

“Perhaps… But you haven’t yelled at me like that since I tried to kick you out after I was released.” 

Draco tried like hell not to think about the time he spent in Azkaban; the single days that felt likes weeks… the single weeks that seemed like a lifetime. No amount of sleep, or tears, or meals, or lawyer visits had helped him. It wasn’t until he heard Harry speak first, and then Hermione, and then Ron, that Draco felt like time had actually stopped! 

Listening to their testimony on his behalf had caused him to feel more guilt than he ever had before, and Pansy had had to come to the Manor every day afterward to make sure he ate. He could finally eat real food, now, since all he had been able to consume was tea and cigarettes. For a week this happened, until Pansy finally screamed at him enough for him to break down (“Now who’s being the pansy?!”), and he hadn’t let her go since.

And, now that he stood in her arms, he felt that four other arms were missing… and he knew that Pansy felt that too.

He had been angry- at first- that she had suggested his Quidditch privileges be taken away; but that seemed minuscule at the moment… because he could see that she was truly worried about losing the Gryffindors. And he had had a hand in bringing that to the forefront of her mind.

Pansy hardly liked anyone, but Draco knew she fancied the other couple as much as he did, and that meant a lot to him; which was why he let her go and walked toward the fireplace, saying,

“I fancy them too… Which is why I’ll go see him, and- maybe we can figure this out.”

But he didn’t even have time to grab floo powder before the fireplace erupted into green flames (which really only looked like normal flames to the green ties), and Harry stepped through; wearing nothing but his Quidditch pants, and a glower gleaming behind dark glasses.

(Bruiser)  
Angel of Death is bloodied now  
He's the one inside  
Tortured, scored that strike  
Against the fear, it feeds the fire  
Near me now, the demon's son  
Bruiser I'm the one


	16. Green Hell

“I cannot believe you two said that to each other! And here I thought we were over all of this! And, here I thought… that the both of you were smarter than that! You know better than to talk about those things! McGonagall said it right, she did. “I cannot express my level of disappointment that I feel for you two!” She’s a fucking wordsmith, and she can’t even put that shite into words!

“You two idiots love each other, ok? Get over this fight. You’ve insulted each other before, and you got over it! You can get over this! What happens on the pitch should be forgotten off the pitch!

“I shouldn’t have let this happen…” Hermione continued to wear a spot in the carpet as she half talked to herself, half talked to Harry. “Pansy and I knew that his would happen! That’s why, when I told her to go get potions, she did it! She listened to my order, Harry! Because she agreed with me! Pansy actually found something I said relevant! 

“This was a terrible idea, and now you both have to deal with losing Quidditch, our nights together, and each other! What about me and Pansy, huh? We don’t have anything to do with this, and no we do! You two and your- dicks are going to ruin this for all of us! 

“Gods! Why, didn’t I stop them?! I should have… done something!”

Harry sat and watched Hermione pace and yell at him. He didn’t want to, but he knew there was no avoiding it. Whatever spell he could cast to quiet her, or even if he went into his room and tried to lock himself in and silence it, she’d whisper some counter spell behind her hand and she’d be in his room; pacing and yelling and making it… rain…

“Hermione. You’re- raining.”

“Shut it, Harry! I know! Because I’m nervous! I-“ Hermione ignored her personal storm cloud, and she prepared herself with a deep breath, for total honesty. “I- I don’t want to lose them, ok? I- care for them both, and I am pissed at Draco for hurting you, and I am pissed at both of you for what you said! But I- I love you, and I love them, and you have to go make it up to him before all of this ends!” 

Harry let his eyes widen at his woman’s words, because he hadn’t given love much thought. Yes, he fancied the Slytherins, and they had gotten close to each other; far closer than any of them would have imagined! But love..? 

Did he love them? Did they love them back? Did it matter now that Harry’s face was still healing, and his pride was not?

As Marcellus Wallace would say, “Fuck pride…”

“Fuck no! I already apologized! It’s his turn!”

“Gah! Men!” Hermione yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “If you don’t get your arse in that floo, I am going to push you in it! Whether or not I use powder depends on your level of cooperation!” 

Harry glared at the witch, and she took a step towards his place on the couch. He’d come in through the floo, some hours ago, taken off his Quidditch robes, shirt, shin and arm pads, and cleats, and then sat there; and he hadn’t moved since.

Hermione hadn’t yelled at first. It wasn’t until she first heard Harry say he wasn’t going to apologize again that Hermione had stood and started her rant. She felt annoyed that she had to scold him for what happened, and she was annoyed that she felt she had to scold herself for not telling them to leave the bet out of it. 

Quidditch was already competitive enough; especially when one is talking about a match between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy!

But, part of her figured that adding a bet wouldn’t have mattered much, because she knew her men. They would have started in on the shite talk, either way, and the outcome would have been the same. From the beginning of their time together, they had loved nothing more than to harass, stalk, obsess over, berate, condescend, and, occasionally, physically harm each other!

Why she thought that Quidditch might have become mellow after all of this, she did not know. This should have been the one thing she worried about; rather than them being seen together outside of their rooms, or sitting near each other in classes, or talking to each other civilly in the Great Hall. 

She should have been worried about Quidditch!

She hadn’t considered it a problem, especially once tryouts had taken place and the boys had somehow sat together and helped each other pick teams. It had caused Pansy and Hermione to watch, in silence, whilst eating popcorn, the spectacle better than any show either had ever seen! Muggle and Magic theatre had nothing on watching Harry and Draco measure each other’s teammates based off of prior experience on the field; or from what the other had to say about a lower year student neither had seen before tryouts. 

So, Hermione and Pansy had thought nothing of it until practices had started. That had been when the verbal fight had happened on who would win the match; and that had been when Hermione had mentioned to Pansy that the Slytherin witch take advantage of the floo system to sneak home and grab healing potions from her parents’ stores. 

Hermione had been none too happy when Pansy had returned and told her she’d threatened the house elves with clothes if they squealed; and that had turned into the Head Girl “reprimanding” the female Slytherin Prefect for being a “naughty, filthy, insensitive, snatch for a Slytherin slut”; all the while Pansy had been over her knee…

The women were far more apt to consider communication, and resolving a conflict, than their men.

Afterward, the two women had tried to convince the men- who had left in a huff after their fight and returned, separately, sometime later- that they should have fun on their own. That only led to some kind of awkward stare-down, to the fight that led to who would be on bottom first, to the bet that started all of this shite! 

Things had been going quite well up until that point, and Hermione was not ready for things to end because of some stupid, old, bitter rivalry that even swinging couldn’t cure!

As Hermione stared at Harry- who had been quite shocked at her confession of love; as well as her threatening to “burn the witch”- she wondered if she should have kept love out of the picture; especially since she really didn’t know how that would affect things (of course she could speculate)- but she wanted to be as honest with Harry as possible. 

She honestly loved her new mates; and whether that was romantic love, or more like the love one had for someone they were extremely comfortable with, she did not know. She was comfortable with them, and being on the fritz- in some weird way- made her feel uncomfortable!

She was raining!

Harry watched as Hermione continued to storm; her minds’ obvious whirling causing the sprinkle to turn into steady down poor, and then turn into a flood. He stood, very suddenly, and moved to wrap her in his arms- not caring if she was wet and cold and emotional- and gave a loud sigh.

“Fine! I’ll talk to him! Blimey!” Harry was so bloody annoyed!

In Hermione’s confession, he’d begun to feel the guilt, and the sadness. Even the anger of being forbidden to play Quidditch had dissipated once he realized that the past month- a month that had helped him begin to overcome the days prior; and helped him focus on a future that included nights with the Slytherins- might have been ruined by the fact that he and Draco hadn’t completely gotten over their issues…

That was now an issue, because Draco mattered to Harry.

Was that love? Yes, it was, but was it a romantic love, or the love you have for a friend? They were friends, yes. Only friends could come from where they had and help one another choose the teams they no longer had any say over. It had been obvious to Harry that things had changed, and he thought it would have been for the better always. He’d let himself get out of control; he’d let his mouth run away with him, and now he had to go beg for forgiveness.

Fuckin’ relationships…

“Thank you,” Hermione said into his chest, her emotions calming and the cloud began to slow its rain and dissipate. She pulled away a bit and went up to kiss him briefly on the lips. “Now go tell Draco you’re sorry and that you lost the bet.”

“What?!” Ok… Harry’s calm was gone. “He punched me! That has to be grounds for him to concede!”

“That was only after you insulted his mother! He didn’t even insult your mother! You hit too low on that, Harry, and you know it. And you know the only way he’ll forgive you is if you concede,” Hermione stated this in her “I read that shite in a book once” voice. It was fact all of a sudden!

Harry knew it to be true; that the only way to stroke Draco’s ego enough for him to forgive and forget- was to let him fuck him…

“Fuck…” Harry growled as his stomach twisted with lust and worry. He pulled away from Hermione, “acciod” his wand, spelled them dry, spun on his heel, and marched to the floo. He grabbed the powder, threw it in and said, “Slytherin Prefects Common Room”.

Upon entering the dark, green room he saw Draco first; the blonde standing just next to the fire as if he’d been ready to floo somewhere himself. 

Harry glared at him before he said, 

“Alright. I lost.”

(Green Hell)  
We're gonna burn in hell  
Green hell  
Like every hell but kind of green  
In hell, green hell  
We're gonna face the mess we're  
In hell, green hell


	17. Dead Kings Rise

Harry waited as Draco got over his initial shock, staring at him as he took a step towards the man to let Hermione enter behind him. The raven-haired man noted how both Slytherins looked as if they’d been standing next to Hermione only moments ago; drenched from rain, hair stuck down to their heads and necks. Pansy walked from her place near the couch toward the three near the fire, her eyes wide as she stared at Harry in surprise.

“I- you… Really?!” Draco sputtered. Harry, who was embracing all his Gryffindor courage, said, 

“Yes. Really.”

Then he moved to put his lips to Draco’s; the blond man pulling his glasses off and throwing them in the fire (by accident) before Draco put his cold hands to Harry’s hot skin. 

Harry’s heart was already raging from arguing with Hermione, as well as fighting with his own pride, and he felt its rushing quicken at the contact; the flush rising on his neck and face, the twist of hot lust and want in his stomach, despite the cold of the dungeon. 

Draco was always so cold, in nearly every meaning of the word; distant and suspicious and ruthless and… just cold. But, despite his body temperature, the way he kissed Harry translated into a very noticeable heat when the blonde pressed his body flush to Harry’s; the chill on Draco’s clothing quickly dissipating as their chests met, and their core heat sent chills down the shirtless man’s spine.

Surrender was a pretty fucking foreign concept to Harry Potter; it didn’t happen often, and when it did, there was always some kind of plan, set on the back burner, to get back on top. This would time would be no different; because Harry had plenty of ideas for the blonde once this was all said and done and his ego was back up to par. But even still, this interaction was happening, and it became more and more evident as Draco began to walk, forcing Harry to walk backwards as their lips stayed locked, guiding them towards the bedroom.

Hermione, who had quickly saved Harry’s glasses from the fire and set them on the coffee table, watched with a heated gaze and a lusting unease in her stomach- her top teeth biting her bottom lip- as her mind ran with the possibilities of what could come. This was definitely happening, it was obvious by the way the men looked; all heat and need and lust, and all the red tie witch could do was gawk for a moment. 

When she finally regained her senses- after a few seconds- she looked to Pansy to see she wore a matching expression; her eyes were a little wide as the green tie witch whispered to the Head Girl,

“Should… uh. Should we go, too?”

Hermione really hadn’t thought about it. She had figured that they had to get over the first hurdle: the Quidditch match. Once that hadn’t ended properly, she definitely hadn’t thought about it! For a few hours, this didn’t seem very likely. In fact, it seemed highly improbable, teetering on totally fucking impossible!

Besides, Hermione and Pansy had had a few of their own moments alone. Maybe it was good to give the two men a moment… But, then again, leaving those two alone together could end so, so, so badly. 

Hermione had to shrug at her girl, and reply,

“Probably.”

Pansy grabbed Hermione’s hand, which the red-tie took happily, and led the way to Draco’s newly open door, through which the men had just disappeared; leaving a trail for the girls to follow, made up out of Draco’s Quidditch uniform. As they entered the room, they watched as Draco forced Harry, by the waist, down onto the floor on his arse. He looked up at the blonde man, a glare on his features, snapping,

“Watch it, tosser! I’m not totally healed, yet.” The landing on the pitch still hurt Harry a bit, and being pushed down onto his arse made him remember what had brought all of this on in the first place! “You still haven’t apologized for that, either.”

Draco smirked down at Harry, and the Gryffindor man was annoyed when the look only stoked the fire of lust, instead of the anger that he still felt. Yes, he was angry… but yes, he still wanted him, and that was fucking irritating. Draco was fucking irritating, and that trait only doubled as one of his “charms”; especially coupled with the fact that he was smirking, and had his arms crossed over his pale bare chest.

He looked foreboding, and threatening, in a way that was oh so familiar and oh so pleasantly different. The Slytherin man sneered,

“I don’t need to apologize to you, Potter.”

Harry fumed, annoyed, and snapped, “Yes, you-“

Well… he tried to snap something back at Draco, but the blonde wasn’t having it. In a second, the Slytherin wizard had his wand out, and he flipped Harry onto his stomach, the red tie man giving a cry of surprise. 

As he made to stand, he found his left hand and left knee stuck to the floor, and he felt, rather than heard, as Draco stuck his right hand and knee next. Harry turned his head over his shoulder and glared at Draco, noting that Hermione and Pansy stood in silence, hand in hand, in the doorway. He was nervous about the prospect of their women watching what Draco had planned from this point, even though he couldn’t make out their faces without his glasses. Draco was close enough that he could make out his expression; his trade-mark smirk seeming to deepen with each second until a brilliant, sardonic grin graced his lips. 

The Slytherin looked like a snake; pulled up straight and tall, pleased that his first strike had immobilized his prey, and now he was ready to devour him. 

A chill hit Harry’s spine at the expression, and he felt his breath hitch, his cock stiffen, sack clench, elbows trembled lightly as they threatened to give out. He watched as Draco slowly walked around him with smooth, leisurely steps, and squatted down so that his face was just above Harry’s, but he still looked dominating.

Harry had been a dominant participant in the scenarios before… He did not know how to be submissive… Needless to say, amongst the feelings of anger and lust, his nerves were now running rampant. He’d been anxious about it before, but now he felt entirely lost!

Until today, he’d honestly thought this situation would be backwards! Harry had a knack for beating Draco at things, especially Quidditch. He’d spent all week staring at the blonde’s arse, planning and fantasizing about what he’d do to the green tie once he had him… He now had to wonder if Draco had done the same thing. 

Harry wanted to ask, but now was not the time for that.

“You lost, remember?” Draco asked, and Harry felt another chill run down his spine as the blonde leaned in close and whispered, “You lost, and now you have to pay the debt you owe me. And I think-“he grabbed Harry by the chin, and set his silver eyes on the Gryffindor man’s lips, “-I’d care to start with your mouth. Since you can’t keep it shut, anyway.”

Draco moved to his knees in front of Harry, and moved to untie his pants, the green eyed man’s myriad of feelings growing, and causing him to lick his lips. Whichever feeling caused his last act, it didn’t matter- whether it be nerves or need- it was evident Draco didn’t care. He’d been staring at Harry’s lips the entire time, and the act of licking them made the blonde smirk as he slid his pants down his hips and let his cock spring free and bob just before Harry’s mouth. 

Hermione watched with baited breath as Draco succeeded in dominating Harry, and she had to admit that she loved it. Her fellow Gryffindor had always been the one to tie her down, and even though she really did like it, she’d often wondered what it would be like for Harry to be truly dominated. Yes, she could tie his hands to the hook they’d put in his headboard, and she could choke him as she rode him to her release… But she had not yet considered tying him down and using her wand, or evening conjuring something a little more phallic, to make him submit to her the way that he was now to Draco. 

The blonde man grabbed a handful of Harry’s wild, shaggy hair, and held his head up as he gripped his cock by the base to position the tip at the other man’s lips. Hermione didn’t protest as Pansy pulled her from their frozen spot by the door, and walked her to stand just behind Draco, where the two women proceeded to look over either of the blonde’s shoulders and down to Harry’s indignant, red as fuck face. Though his eyes were hazed with lust, he seemed embarrassed by the presence of the women.  


But Draco didn’t seem to care; he simply commanded, rather boldly, “Open your mouth.”

Harry bit his lip for only a second before he did as he was told, closing his eyes just before Draco entered his mouth and pushed himself in so far that he hit the back of his throat and Harry gagged. The blonde pulled out as the dark haired man kept his stomach in check, and Harry glared up at him with watering eyes and yelling weakly,  
“Arsehole!” 

“We’ll get there in a moment, Harry,” Draco replied in a purr, before commanding once more, “Open your mouth.”

If the thought of biting him didn’t make his own dick want to shrink just a bit, Harry might have done so as he opened his mouth once more and Draco pushed himself in; though this time he didn’t enter with the intent to make him gag. As Harry forced himself to relax- allowing the feeling of the other man inside his mouth twist his core, and allowing the sound of Draco swearing his pleasure- he tried to ignore the two faces that loomed just beyond Draco’s shoulders; the women looking almost like ghosts in the darkness of the room. 

“Aw… The King of the lions went and got himself tied up,” Pansy mocked in a delighted whisper, grasping tighter to Hermione, the two women still unable to let go of each other as they watched, and listened to Draco’s groans and swears of pleasure.

“Pansy!” Hermione said, shocked at her woman’s obvious amusement, looking at her with a gaped mouth and wide eyes. 

It was obvious that Harry, though he was enjoying himself, was already feeling humiliated. He was red, yes, because this was entirely new for him, and he had spectators! Sure, they were his “girlfriends”, and they were very comfortable with each other, but this was the one bridge they hadn’t crossed yet, and the last thing he needed was Pansy mocking him.

Wait… That was classic Pansy. She loved picking on Harry, the tramp! It was probably her fondest pastime, or some crazy shite.  
“What?” Pansy whispered back with a shrug. “It’s nice to see him being tied down for a change.”

Hermione had a sudden thought… She didn’t feel like she could ever properly dominate Harry, but she could attempt to do so to the green tie witch, like she had when she’d spanked her for being, well- Pansy, and threatened her house elves! 

Hermione gripped the witch’s hand a little tighter, and she pulled her to her chest, only to grip her by the waist and push her down to the ground just beside Draco; Pansy’s hips resting inches from the blonde’s bended knee as Hermione knelt beside him between their woman’s legs.

The Gryffindor remained ever aware of the sounds that the men made as she whispered the sticking charm, forcing Pansy to stay flat on her back, and grabbed her wrists to press them to the floor above her head; whispering the spell again and leaving the woman mostly incapacitated. Pansy’s legs came up and wrapped around Hermione’s waist, and she tried to pull her closer, but the curly haired witch refused her attempt and pushed her legs down and away. She held her to the floor by her thighs, and whispered the spell one more time.

“Hermione. What are you-“Pansy began, but was cut off when Hermione whispered the Langlock jinx, forcing the witch to stop talking. 

“I am not starting with your mouth, so keep it shut,” Hermione needlessly commanded. Pansy had no “say” in the matter at this point, but the red tie witch wanted to establish her dominance over the woman; not only because she wanted to make the witch come, but also because she wanted get her back for being rude as well as an in an attempt to make Harry feel more comfortable.

With two fingers, Hermione pushed into Pansy’s pussy with the wetness she found there; a wetness that matched hers from watching the men beside them. It was insanely sexual, and though Hermione wanted to concentrate on making the witch below her pay for being a brat, she also couldn’t help but feel curious.

So, with fingers still at work on her woman, she looked over to her best friend, and had to bite her lip as lust pulsed through her core at the sight of him looking at her while he also worked the length of Draco’s cock with his lips. She glanced up at the green tie kneeling beside her, and saw that he was staring down at Harry, his hand still lost in the raven locks as he assisted the other man’s movements. Draco was biting his lip, and he was groaning low in his throat, and she had to admire the sinew of his arms as he gripped Harry, and the flex of his arse and trembling abs. 

Harry was forced to keep his face forward, and he watched Draco’s abs flex, stared at the light dusting of platinum hair as he allowed the blonde to do as he wished. The Gryffindor man had been more than annoyed about the Slytherin in control, at least at the beginning, but now he had to admit that the sounds Draco made as he pumped were music to his ears. The groans and moans were becoming louder, and the thrusts were going a little deeper, and as Harry adjusted to feelings he found he didn’t mind so much if Draco kept making those noises.

He’d enjoyed them before, but they hadn’t been made for Harry, they’d been made for either of their women. The thought of Draco getting off because of Harry gave the usually bold and dominant red tie an odd sense of control; if he moved his head just right, or pressed his tongue, stiffly, just so, the green tie would gasp and grip Harry’s hair tighter. He would also make this… fantastic, strangled gasp whenever he would pull back just enough, allowing Harry the time to roll his tongue around the head.

“Merlin, Harry. I’m going to come,” Draco said, holding Harry tighter and moving a little faster, groaning a little louder as he forced himself deeper, and the Gryffindor man had to keep himself from smiling (if he even could) once he looked up and saw that Draco had tilted his head back.

Hermione heard Draco’s words, and glanced to Pansy who was trying to wiggle on her knuckles, but still watched the men just as intently, noted that the woman stuck to the floor was completely transfixed now that their blonde boyfriend was nearing his edge. With wide eyes and drawn breath, the women watched as Draco came, and Hermione had to stifle a giggle as Harry’s eyes went wide in surprise, and the blonde held himself inside of his mouth so as keep him from spitting it out.

(Dead Kings Rise)  
Feel my sword  
Though the flesh be dead and rotten  
Dead kings rise  
For vengeance owed


	18. Spinal Remains

Draco couldn’t understand why he’d let his anxiety and pride keep him from fucking Harry’s mouth before now. Not only did it feel fucking amazing- the man doing things he was sure only a man could understand- but the thrill of making Harry Potter literally bend to his will was one of the best adrenaline rushes he’d ever had! 

The women aside, Quidditch aside, wars and fear aside… finally, finally, being in control of the Gryffindor “Head” Boy went far beyond adventure and excitement. Though it had never occurred to Draco that he may have wanted this even before now, he would have never imagined that it could be so completely satisfying. 

Draco could feel that the other man’s unease ebb by the second as he sucked, and pressed his tongue up to massage the bottom of his shaft. He could feel as the slightly stiff movements in Harry’s neck relaxed, and he began to turn his head, slowly, from side to side. The hold Draco had on his hair tightened, but not much time had passed before his hand was no longer needed for guidance, but instead stability; the sounds of Harry’s wet mouth sucking on him as moans left his busy lips was intoxicating. 

So intoxicating, that the Slytherin man was nearly embarrassed by how fast he came… Until he watched Harry swallow, and he decided he could watch that particular event any day of the week; short lived or no.

Pulling out of Harry’s mouth, Draco said, “Very good, love.”

Harry scoffed, lightly, and looked to be holding a few choice words back as he licked his lips and glared up at Draco. The blonde had to smile, and he looked to the witches beside him, and he became aware of just how lost he’d been in his activities with Harry. It became extremely clear once he saw that Pansy was stuck to the floor on her back, wrists above her head and thighs spread, Hermione between her legs, the curly-haired witch looking up at him with both lust and mischief. 

Draco decided he liked it when she looked mischievous, just as much as he liked it when Harry held the same expression, and right now it meant that he might be getting an entirely different, yet equally satisfying, show. His suspicions were confirmed once he noticed Hermione had obviously jinxed Pansy’s mouth to keep her quiet, the Slytherin witch glaring at the both of them. 

Through hazy, lusty eyes, Draco released Harry, and reached over and gave Hermione’s arse a sharp slap, and said, 

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Pansy wanted to kick Draco, and she would have had her legs not been charmed to the floor. She also would have shrieked something like, “You shite bag! You flaming- piece of dragon shite! You’re the big mouth who started all of this!”, had her tongue not been stuck to the roof of her mouth. 

She tried to yell anyway, and all she succeeded in doing was drawing matching, devilishly evil, yet equally sexy smirks from the pair who had decided to take control of their present situation. The Gryffindor witch, to Pansy, had never looked better while wearing her “I’m the boss” face. It usually irked Pansy beyond belief, and even though the annoyance was still there, she decided that Hermione was only allowed to make such an expression while she was on her knees between Pansy’s legs.

“I think I got a little carried away,” Draco said, which only made Hermione chuckle, Pansy scoff, and Harry roll his eyes.

“Can I get up now?” The red tie wizard asked, pulling against the floor and looking down at his hands. Draco grabbed him by the back of his head to force him to look up at him once more, saying,

“Fuck no! I haven’t gotten what I was owed. You owe me- your arse,” Draco paused to watch Harry glare, but the blonde noticed the other man swallow loudly in what Draco could only guess what nervousness. For a moment, the green tie wanted to keep harassing him, if only to get more looks of unease… uncertainty. Draco liked Harry’s nervous, uncertain face, especially when it came to this particular scenario.

“Your mouth-“Draco continued, “-was just for fun…” He looked down at his now flaccid cock, and back up to Harry. “But now I’m soft. Care to fix that for me?”

Draco pulled Harry’s head down, and moved his hips forward, pressing his soft prick against the other man’s reddened lips. He looked none too happy, but he closed his green eyes and opened his mouth, accepting Draco into his mouth once more. The green tie watched with a sick sense of enjoyment as The Man Who Lived did his bidding; watching as he struggled to keep him in his mouth, but not for too long, as Draco was begging to harden rather quickly.

Pansy watched Hermione’s eyes as they stormed, as she continue to slowly coax Pansy to the edge. The entire situation was driving the Slytherin witch insane, and her body was reacting far stronger than normal at the image of her boyfriend succumbing to the will of their other boyfriend. She already felt herself trembling an insane amount, pulling against her restraints, and it only became stronger once she watched Draco pull his hardened length from Harry’s mouth, and move around the man on his knees.

“Draco,” Hermione said, pumping Pansy while looking up to the green tie man.

“Yes?” Draco asked and as he looked down at his “prey”.

“Be nice, please,” Hermione said simply. Both Draco and Harry chuckled, and Hermione smiled at their reaction to her words. 

Even Pansy had to laugh despite herself, because she had to admit that the four of them had gotten pretty close; close enough that the brain knew Draco’s moves, probably before he even knew them himself. The Slytherin witch knew that Draco would love to be rough with Harry, even at that moment, and giggled behind closed lips because she knew then that they were all aware of one another enough to know the other’s motives for their actions, or their reactions to those motives and actions, and the reactions to the other’s reactions and motives, and… etcetera…

They were aware of one another, and they all knew this, and that was… nice..?

“I’ll be nice enough,” was Draco’s simple, smiled, reply; his hands moving under Harry to untie his pants, and pulling them over his arse and down to rest on the back of his calves.

The Slytherin witch was trying to take in everything that was happening, but she was finding it difficult as Hermione began to work a little faster, rubbing the spots within Pansy that made her hips want to lift off the floor and press into the other witch’s knuckles. In her haze, she tried to watch all three of the others as best she could; watching Hermione watch them all, and Harry bow his head and remain silent; Draco grabbing his wand and casting a lubricating charm before he grabbed his cock to position it at Harry’s opening.

“Aren’t you going to… prep him? Nice, remember?” Hermione asked, not once stopping her motions, looking quite adorable as she paused and searched for the right words.

Draco grinned at her once more, biting his lip for a moment as he looked down to Harry’s arse, noting the fact that the man was staying rather quiet for one who was usually so bold and mouthy. Maybe, just maybe… he was learning a lesson on what one should say, and what one should not say. Draco not using his fingers to stretch him first was a bit of revenge, yes, but he wasn’t going to be rough. Not this time, anyway…

Speaking of learning lessons, Draco leaned over Harry, putting his left hand between the Gryffindor man and Slytherin woman, and pressed the tip of his prick into the other man’s entrance as he said,

“This is me being nice.”

With that, Draco pressed himself into Harry an inch or two, causing the Gryffindor man to take in a sharp breath and tense, which only made the vice grip he had on Draco’s cock to tighten. It caused the Slytherin to lean over further to make an attempt at biting the muscles in Harry’s back; once again using his roughness as a means for dominance and stability. The man on his hands and knees gasped loudly, tried to resist, at the feeling of Draco’s cock and teeth. Harry’s arse pulsed and clamped, and the blonde pressed his forehead into Gryffindor’s back so that he could say,

“Relax. It hurts more when you resist.”

“Done this before, have you?” Harry replied through gritted teeth, but Draco felt him heed his advice none-the-less, and he could only smirk at his housemate as best he could as he turned to look at her. 

Pansy tried to reply for Draco through both a moan and her tongue; the witch wishing like hell that she could speak, as well as arch her back and hips. She hated the Gryffindors for their sex/war tactics, it made it to where she hated and loved them all at once, and she didn’t know what to do with that complicated shite! The feelings were only made more complicated by watching Draco use Harry’s own devices against him. It made the Slytherin witch squeeze Hermione’s fingers, the curly haired witch smiling at her before she countered her jinx on Pansy’s mouth.

“What was that, love?” Hermione asked.

“He knows- what he’s talking about, Harry,” Pansy replied as best she could through a mewl, swearing she was going to tie Hermione down in order to fuck her with both their wands the second she finite’d her sticking charms. While she was tied down, Pansy was also going to give her a very stern talking to about wandless magic, and how it was “unsportsmanlike” to use it when her “opponent” didn’t know she was capable of it.

“Oh, really?” Hermione asked with a lifted brow. Pansy bit her lip and nodded at the witch, who only smirked deviously before the green tie witch- who, in fact, still wore her tie- felt Hermione’s fingers twist within her, and Pansy remained mostly silent as the red tie wetted her thumb, and stuck into Slytherin woman’s arse. Pansy almost squealed, but gasped instead, as she felt the intrusion; her walls clamping down hard, and then even harder when she heard Draco groan,

“Fuck, your arse is tight.”

Both witches looked up as Draco righted himself on his knees, both women acutely aware of the fact that the blonde had pushed himself into Harry completely; the raven haired man’s muscles tense as he groaned in pain through pursed lips. But even with the sounds he made, the Slytherin did not relent, choosing to move in and out of Harry with slow, steady strokes. From her angle on the floor- with no help from the low candle light and her arms being pressed against her ears- Pansy couldn’t quite see either man’s face. It was a torture she could have never imagined.

“Let me go, Hermione,” Pansy pleaded. The Gryffindor in question smiled, and replied,

“Ask nicely.” Her voice was almost a purr, said just loud enough to linger audibly with Harry’s moans, which had grown louder as Draco had continue to move in and out.

“Please, Hermione,” Pansy pleaded, no longer caring if she looked weak in doing so. The three other people in the room were allowed to see her in a state of vulnerability. She trusted them, and it was with that trust that she continued, “Please let me go.”

Hermione smirked at her, and whispered the blasted jinx that stuck Pansy’s tongue to the top of her mouth once more. 

The “Head” Girl bent low between Pansy’s legs, and set her lips to the Slytherin’s sensitive clit, forcing the incapacitated woman to wish, once more, that she could move closer; move herself onto Hermione’s face and hopefully feel as good as the men were obviously feeling. Their moans and groans were filling her ears, and the need for total release was at the forefront of Pansy’s mind.

When Hermione started to lightly suck, tongue, and tweak her clit, Pansy felt herself tremble, and pull against the floor; whimpering and mewling and pleading behind her lips, “Please, Hermione. Let me go!”

The red tie knew what Pansy was saying, she had to, even if she couldn’t make out the words. Hermione was enjoying Pansy’s misery, and she was getting off on knowing that.

The entire scene was making it so very difficult for Draco to control the speed at which he fucked the man below him; his pale knuckles somehow paler as he gripped the Gryffindor man’s hips. Harry was beginning to press himself back against Draco’s hips, and he was groaning swears, and the muscles in his back and shoulders were rippling as he flexed and pulled against the charms on his palms and knees in an attempt to have more of the Slytherin inside of him.

“Draco…” Harry moaned, “Wh- why does this feel so good?” 

“It does, does it?” Draco was trying to keep his wits about him, not exactly knowing how long he could last, especially once Harry started talking to him.

“Fuck yes, it does.” He pressed back once more, and the blonde tightened his grip on his hips, dug his nails in before managing to ask,

“Do- you want me to go faster?”

“I think he does,” Hermione had sat up from her task to interject, causing Draco to look over to her, and bite his lip to fight back a groan as she turned to Harry to ask, “You want him to go faster, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Harry said, almost too low to hear; though the word hit Draco’s core with a heat as hot as if he’d screamed it. The fact that he wanted him, wanted more of Draco, drove the blonde bloody mad.

“Louder, Harry,” Hermione commanded, a smirk on her wet face, before going back to work on Pansy’s clit; the Slytheirn still feeling tortured in the fact that she didn’t get to fully witness the men together like Hermione did.

“Yes!” Harry yelled hoarsely.

Draco was now at the edge with Harry’s reply, so he leaned over, putting his hand back onto the floor between the raven haired pair, and reached around to use his wand hand to stroke Harry’s hard cock. As he did so, he felt the Gryffindor’s arse tighten, watched his muscles run ridged, and Draco pressed his forehead into the middle of Harry’s back as he felt the world melt away. Draco’s vision burst behind closed lids, and Harry burst into his hand, and he heard himself say something like, 

“Fuck, Harry. I love fucking your arse.”

Or was it, “Fuck, Harry, I could fuck your arse forever.”? 

Was it both?

Pansy wouldn’t be the person to ask for clarification on that one, because their girlfriend was doing insane things with the mouth that Pansy used to wish she could slap! She still might do so, but that would have to wait because the scream she let go from her throat as she came on Hermione’s face would later make her happy she’d silenced the common room. 

Pansy felt herself come down, and felt Hermione pull away, the Gryffindor releasing Pansy from all spells, and allowing her to fully relax as she tried to steady her breathing. Draco leaned down suddenly and kissed Pansy, and she opened her eyes to look up at her green tie boyfriend, who knelt close to her next to their red tie boyfriend; both men flushed and covered in sweat. They smirked down at her, and she smirked back lazily, before she turned to look at Hermione.

The red tie witch had, somehow, escaped ravishment… And that became a sudden problem to the other three in the room as they all had the realization at the same time. Pansy looked to Draco, who looked back down to her, over to Hermione, and then to Harry; whose green eyes darted between the other three before finally landing on Hermione once more.

Pansy sat up shakily, and said in a low, devious growl,

“Get her.” 

(Spinal Remains)  
We have no razors but we still have fun  
Down on the floor baby whisper my name, yeah  
When you rip my back to shreds  
I'll dig my boots into  
The soft remains of your spine


	19. The Haunting

Both men took Hermione by the wrists, and Pansy haphazardly grabbed one of her feet, and the three managed to get the woman onto the bed; the red tie witch slightly resisting them as she realized she was about to have to deal with all three of them on her at once.

Or- that’s what she kind of hoped, anyway.

Harry, who was feeling rather good for a man who’d just been fucked by another for the first time (really good, actually), was more than happy to relieve their woman of her clothes once he’d grabbed her wand from her robes. They disappeared and reappeared on the chair by the door. Whilst looking back to see that they’d appeared where he’d hoped they would, he realized that Pansy was now the only one dressed, and he relieved her of her clothes as well.

She gasped, and turned to Harry with wide eyes before she gave him a cheeky grin. He returned it, before he followed Draco’s lead by sticking the back of Hermione’s wrists to the top of the head board, only a couple of inches apart. She tried to pull against the head board, and she found that it was futile…

Well, sort of. She could get out of it if she felt like she was truly in trouble. She’d spent all summer practicing her wandless magic, whenever she wasn’t reading. No deranged, cunt-faced, Slytherin bitch would hold her down ever again. Not unless she wanted her to, of course.

Speaking of deranged, cunt-faced, Slytherin bitches; Pansy decided that taking the wand from Harry and conjuring that Merlin forsaken strip of leather he loved so much was a good idea! It was a good idea, but at the moment Hermione was a little afraid. She’d relinquished control to Harry, Draco, and Pansy individually, but the three together were bringing back memories she was still trying to work through.

The three together reminded her of the snatchers, reminded her of being taken to the Manor… with Harry… where Draco watched… where a dark witch wanted nothing more than to take joy in her helplessness…

“Wait! Stop!” Hermione said loudly, nearly shrieked, in fear, pulling her legs up to her chest to defend herself against them. 

The three around her stopped in their advance; silver, green, and brown eyes went wide, mouths slackened, arms stopped… brains ceased to continue on the trains they’d been on. Hermione watched in the dim light as her lovers stopped and looked down at her where she trembled, without even knowing she was doing so. 

She’d been gripped by fear, and in the clear, calculative speed at which Hermione’s mind worked, she noted in a mere seconds how Harry realized she’d been triggered and moved to grab his wand from Pansy to undo her wrists; how Pansy continued to look at her with wide-eyed terror and confusion, leather still in hand. She noticed how Draco’s mind worked as fast as Harry’s in realizing that the situation at hand was “danger close”; an all too familiar staging of events that brought far too much to the forefront of their minds, and was making Hermione feel uncomfortable.

Within seconds, the blonde was off of the bed, and he grabbed his pants as he moved from the room. Pansy threw the leather off somewhere into the darkness of the room and made after Draco, and Harry had Hermione’s hands in his as he hovered over her, looked her in the eyes and said,

“You’re ok! You’re safe, ok?” He looked panicked, more panicked than Hermione felt as she allowed tiny snippets of memories from the Manor. 

She wouldn’t ever let them all in at once… she had to do it in sections, slowly, at different moments in time. If she allowed herself to relive it in full every time she thought of it- she’d be like Ginny. Hell, she’d probably be at the Burrow right now, reading books and hiding out and away from everything; brushing Ginny’s hair and making sure the depressed younger witch ate, like she should be doing right then. 

She should be with Ginny, making sure she was alright.

She should be at St. Mungos with her parents, sleeping by their sides and visiting them every day.

“Hermione!” Harry’s voice rang with panic, and it took her back to that night when he and Ron were being taken to the dungeon, leaving her alone in the hands of Death Eaters.

She shouldn’t be at Hogwarts. She should be helping the healers find a cure, so that everything could go back to normal! She shouldn’t be back at Hogwarts, unless it was to memorize everything in the restricted section in hopes of finding a way to fix what she had done.

“Hermione!” Harry said loudly, shook her lightly, took her back to a time that was starting to mix with the regrets from her present situation.

She didn’t need to be- shagging away her problems! She should be fixing her fuck ups. She needed to be somewhere else, with her parents! Her face should be in a book, where it was better off, figuring out-

“Hermione!” Harry yelled, pulling her from the grave her mind was quickly digging for itself, moving his hands to the sides of her face, “Stop it. I know what you’re doing, and you need to stop right now! Listen to me, Hermione. You’re safe here, my love. You’re with people who care for you.”

He hadn’t seen her break down in over a month, and before that it hadn’t happened too often. He knew that that time of inner peace had something to do with the Slytherins, just like he knew that they had something to do with this breakdown. Harry had tied Hermione down before, he had done it in front of the Slytherins, but never had the Slytherins worked with Harry against her, and he knew that had brought Hermione into a panic. And even though he didn’t want to think about it, he knew it had something to do with Draco- especially- and Draco had known that too. 

Which was why, Harry assumed without a doubt, that the green tie man was no longer in the room. 

“Hermione, love,” Harry said as he pulled her up to sit, “What is it? Is it- Draco?”

Hermione took in a few shaky breaths, and shook her head lightly before saying, “Yes- but…” she took another breath, “I need to talk to him.”

Until this moment, though the four had gotten close, and they had touched the tip of the iceberg when it came to their issues, it was still just that; they still hadn’t totally confronted it, and Hermione and Draco somehow less so. They were the two who were the least “touchy-feely” with each other. Even Harry and Draco had kissed outside of the bedroom (but still inside the common rooms), whereas Hermione and Draco never touched one another unless behind closed doors. 

That is, until the match...

But, even still, Harry knew they fancied one another. He also knew they were still awkward in each other’s presence once their clothes were back on. It was like their uniforms were some silly masks, and once they were dress they were who they had always been; the Muggleborn and the Pureblood, enemies forever.

They were both so alike, though, it made Harry angry with them for acting that way. But, they’d only been at this for a short while, and whatever “this” was, who said it was serious enough that such issues needed to be dug up? Isn’t that what couples, or whatever, did? If she loved them, even if she had an odd way of showing it to Draco, then why shouldn’t they talk about it? They were “a thing”, right?

“Yes,” Harry said, “yes, I think you do need to talk to him.” 

It only took a minute or so for the Gryffindors to be “dressed” again- Harry wearing his Quidditch pants, Hermione in Draco’s long, white school shirt- and they moved into the living room to sit on the long couch next to the Slytherin couple. The blonde was leaned back into the corner, staring at the fire, his face pulled into a grimace. Pansy sat next to him, wrapped in the green throw that usually lay over the back of the black leather couch.

“Draco. Are- are you ok, love?” Hermione asked as she sat on her legs, the skin of her knees that pointed towards the other couple rubbed against the blanket that Pansy was wrapped in. Harry moved to lean into the other corner of the couch.

Draco scoffed and looked to Hermione with a frown and drawn brows to ask, “Are you ok?”

“Yes,” Hermione half-lied. She was ok with Draco, but she was still not over what had happened. He lifted a brow at her single word lie, and she continued, as to clarify. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m- I am alright, and I am alright with you. We talked about the fact that we all fucked up Draco-“ the blonde scoffed, “- and I don’t hate you for any of that anymore. I swear it. You know I know what you did and why. It just haunts me still, and I’m getting over it… Slowly.

“I’m going to reiterate what Harry said to Pansy, and say that you’re helping me get over all of that past shite that I know I said we shouldn’t let affect us. And, for the most part, it doesn’t get to me, but that was a little too close, because, for whatever reason, you-“Hermione waved her hand in a circle, “all reminded me of being tortured at the manor.”  
Hermione held her hands up to keep Pansy from reacting (wondering how she got thrown in with that lot), and continued,

“It was Draco being there, watching, and- and a woman holding me down and getting off on my helplessness and fear. It was just enough for all of that to- to scare me.”  


Hermione knew what fear felt like; a true Gryffindor was very familiar with fear. Without it, one could not have courage, and Hermione Granger had great courage. But, with that, came the undeniable nightmares that made her take the next step forward; that drove her trudge. She feared that she would never be accepted, that she would never be considered a true member of the wizarding society despite what she’d sacrificed. And her sacrifice, her family and their memories of their lives together, was just another fear. She feared that her parents’ memories were never going to be restored, just like she feared that she would always have nightmares of her time on the run, of her time in captivity, or her time fighting for the lives of people who still died anyway…

She wanted, more than anything, a life where she did not have to feel fear, and that could have very well begun in that moment; where Draco stared at her as he seemed to think of a proper response.

(The Haunting)  
And it's over, it's over this haunting, it's over  
They cut my wrists and watch me bleed inside a dream  
And over and over this haunting, it's over  
They cut my wrists and watch me bleed, they stop haunting me


	20. Day the Earth Caught Fire

Draco wasn’t too good with feelings. Sure, he had them, but did he process them correctly? Perhaps… He was, however, terrible at processing them with other people around. 

Often times, in moments of solitude, or in moments where it was just him and Pansy, and, more recently, moments where it was just the four of them, Draco could deal with his feelings and memories. He could be vulnerable in a room with them, even if he didn’t say anything. But to say them… out loud… to Hermione… 

Well- that was what nightmares were made of! 

“Harry,” Pansy- who was feeling out of place between the Slytherin wizard and Gryffindor witch- said suddenly as she watched her blonde lover’s brain whirl as he thought of a reply. She stood, reached over to grab Harry by the hand, and used her all too powerful motor mouth as she began to rant her way out of the room, 

“Let’s go grab your stuff, Harry, because the both of you are staying the night here whether these two are happy by the end of this conversation or no! Besides, it’s too bloody hot in your dorm! Who needs that many blankets? I sleep better when it’s cold, anyway.” She grabbed floo powder, threw it in the fire, clutched her blanket around herself as she stepped in, and said clearly, “Head’s dorm.”

With that she was gone, and Draco had to glare at Harry as he acciod his glasses, put them on, winked at the blonde with a cheeky smirk, and followed Pansy, leaving Draco alone with the woman who often haunted his nightmares. 

Hermione looked back at him with softened, brown eyes; her earlier determination gone and replaced by the kind witch he rarely got to see. Whenever she’d been around him in the past, she’d always glare at him. Moments ago, when they’d been on the bed, she’d looked almost broke, and now she looked vulnerable. It made him feel that he could be vulnerable, and he found himself fighting the instinctual “flight” response, and he decided he would talk to her.

And why wouldn’t he do that? Why wouldn’t he fix what he’d had a hand in breaking? He’d felt, somehow, that the past month would have been enough to show her that the memories and feelings he had still plagued him, but that he wanted to move past them by spending time with her. But that, apparently, hadn’t been enough.  
If he could fix what he had broken… why wouldn’t he?

“I’m sorry,” Draco began, “for not doing anything about Bella. For- for not doing anything about me… 

“Before I met you, I never thought that anyone like you could exist. Before- before I met Harry, I didn’t know that anyone like him could exist, either. You’re both- this bloody anomaly, you know?

“You, a girl with no magical background being stronger than any of us, showing us how to do spells we’d seen a million times before, when you’d never seen them a day in your life! I used to hate you for that, for being so brilliant. That is until I realized that your brilliance was going to be the only way any of us made it out of the war alive.” Draco stopped, licked his lips, chanced a look at the floor, but realized that was a cop out. The conversation they were having was not for Carpet Gapers. 

He looked up and into her wet brown eyes, and he took a deep breath before he continued,

“Once I realized that I was- that I was completely fucked, and in far too deep, I had already been Marked,” Draco gave a dry laugh and shook his head, but looked back at her before he said, “Can you believe that, for a while there, I thought that Voldemort would win, and that everything would be ok?” She blinked at him, remained still and silent, listening. “But once I realized, truly, that all hope was lost for me, I realized that you, Ron and Harry were the world’s last bit of hope. 

“Harry!” Draco almost yelled suddenly, waving his hand at the fireplace, “Back to anomalies! He lived through being cursed by the most sick and terrifying murderer of our time. I was told that if you stood up to Voldemort, you would die. He taught us to fear him. But then Harry didn’t die, and he showed us that it was that snake-faced fuck that should have been afraid.

“I always thought Voldemort would kill me, or my parents. And, what’s worse is the fact that it is safe for me to say that murderer raised me and my parents. They were born and bred to follow him, and so was I. We were taught to hate you, and that there was something wrong with you. But when all was said and done, Voldemort was wrong. About a lot of things. 

“And you, as usual, are right.”

Hermione smiled lightly at him, which quickly turned into a full smile, which turned into an all-out grin. She flung herself forward and threw her arms around his neck, and Draco couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her. 

It felt so- fucking weird! The emotions, of course, were odd, but so was the feeling of Hermione Granger giving him a hug after such an awkward moment. He’d wanted to hug her so many times, console her so many times. He was glad that he finally could, and that they’d broken more than just the tip of the iceberg when it came to their pasts.

()()()()()

“I’m glad they’re talking that out,” Harry said as he stepped into the common room after Pansy. She’d never used the floo in just a blanket before, believe it or not, and she was sure she almost lost her wrap in the short trip.

“I’m glad you and Draco could- “talk” out your little problem, as well,” Pansy said sarcastically, with a smirk, simply out of habit. She really couldn’t help it! She’d been poking at him for years, and that wasn’t going to stop. Draco might stop, but Pansy was not going to stop giving Harry Potter hell. 

It was her calling. It had to be!

“I’m sure you are, Miss “You’re both staying the night”. I’m touched to know that you care,” Harry said with false grin, putting his hand over his heart.  
Perhaps being a sarcastic smart-arse was Harry’s calling, as well!

“I do care. A little,” Pansy said blandly, ignoring his cheek. Of course, her words were a bit of a lie, but blabbing, and things that should be blabbed, and things that shouldn’t be blabbed, and all of that nonsense…

“Really? Only a little?”

Pansy rolled her eyes and began to walk towards Hermione’s room, planning to grab her girl’s school bag and clothes for the next day. She was glad she opened her mouth and demanded that they stay, and she was willing to do whatever was necessary to get what she wanted. She had, somewhat, admitted to Draco that she fancied the Gryffindors, but she didn’t need to go blabbing that out loud! 

Some things were allowed to be said, this was true, but proclamations of fancy or love…? Not so much.

“Yes. And you had better feel proud of that fact, because I don’t care for anything or anyone.”

“Liar,” Harry said with a chuckle.

“You’d be surprised at how accurate my last statement was,” Pansy replied as she walked through Hermione’s open door and headed toward the bureau, looking around for Hermione’s school bag. She noted its place on the chair by the door. 

“I’m going to believe that you care too much, and that you pretend you don’t so that people leave you alone.” Why he followed her and didn’t go to his own room to grab his things, she did not know. 

She wasn’t going to complain, though. She hadn’t spent much time with him alone. Draco, though he wouldn’t admit it, felt awkward being alone with Hermione, and Pansy knew that the two of them spending time together would be good for them. Being alone with Harry didn’t make Pansy feel uncomfortable. At least not anymore. 

But not so comfortable for professions of love, that was for sure. She wasn’t even sure she could do that! Love, that is.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Pansy said. Whether or not she said it to Harry or herself, she did not know.

“I’m glad that’s settled, little Miss “I Care a Lot”.”

“Watch it. I don’t believe this day can handle any more drama. Let’s not bring my baggage into this.”

“And why not? Content on being the unfeeling ice queen you like to let us all think you are?”

“Have you not been paying attention? I am unfeeling. It just so happens that I don’t feel as little for you as I used to.”

Harry snatched the blanket away that Pansy had wrapped under her arms as she riffled through Hermione’s bureau for clean knickers and socks, and she gave squeal at being so suddenly stark. Granted, she was in the much warmer Head’s dorm, but in the blankets absence she still felt her nipples stiffen, and the hairs on her body stand on end. The reaction only worsened when she felt him grab her by the waist and pull her back against his chest, and then changed her trajectory by pushing her sideways on the bed. He used her shoulder to push her onto her back, before he straddled her waist and put his other hand to her shoulder. 

Pansy failed at fighting a shiver when she looked up at Harry and found him staring down at her with inquisitive green eyes. His brows were drawn, and he almost seemed to frown before he said,

“I pay attention just fine. If it’s one thing I’ve noticed about you, Pansy, is that you always have something snide to say about someone. I’ve never heard of you stick up for anyone but Draco, and today you stuck up for me. You care for Draco, everyone knows this, so your standing up for him is a given. But you stood up for me, so I can only assume that you care for me, too.” He leaned down and kissed her. 

“Hermione says she fancies you,” he continued, laying his body down to hers; his weight feeling pleasant and warm against her chilled skin, “and I can tell you fancy her back by the way you held her hand in front of McGonagall. So stop acting like you don’t care about us, even if that helps you sleep at night, because we’re here to help you sleep at night, just like you help us.”

Pansy could feel their hearts warring in their chests. She could feel that Harry’s was beating as fast as hers, as if he, The Man Who Seemed Fearless, was unsure of what he was saying. As if- he feared her rejection; as if she would turn him away and tell him he was bloody mad for assuming she’d feel for them!

But that wasn’t the case at all.

She licked her lips, cleared her throat, shook her head and said,

“Fine. I care for you, both of you…” she paused, rolled her eyes, “all of you… very much.”

(Day the Earth Caught Fire)  
There was life here once  
The tension, the harshness of life,  
Lost in the flow of time  
Now comes crumbling down  
The land will be covered in darkness  
Premonitions of sorrow and anger, even so  
Things rush on, fleeing, changing,  
Never facing it, straight on


	21. Them

Slytherins enjoyed being punctual; it was a stepping stone on the way to a good reputation… Except for when it came time to face a school of silent, gawking students. 

The Great Hall was nearly full at seven in the morning; as if no one had been able to sleep, and were suddenly hungry as hell. Or… they were far too interested in not missing a moment of the next possible fist fight.

Draco and Pansy had left Harry and Hermione some ways back in the hallway, the four of them deciding that entering all at once was a bad idea. Sure, they knew that the school was sure they were friends, but all four of them showing up together, freshly fucked, rested and freshly showered (which ended up being more of a war meeting than a shower) would arouse more suspicion than the four were ready to handle at present. 

It would bring a lot of premature heat… Well, at least from the other students of Slytherin House. 

Anyhow, the Prefects ignored the array of looks- smirks, grins, nods of approval, glances, stares, glares, and raised brows- and sat directly in the middle of their table; their backs to the others. In an awkward silence that the two had already been anticipating, they began to serve themselves breakfast, until Blaise finally asked,

“So- you and Potter aren’t expelled?”

“No,” Draco replied with an almost inaudible sigh of annoyance.

“And- you’re still our Prefect and Head Boy?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re still captains?”

“No.”

“And-” Millicent began with an ugly glower, “-they’re your mates now, or something? Or- were, at least?” 

“Yes,” Draco said, looking up at her with a challenging lift of his brows and tilt of his head.

The sound of people choking on food, and utensils clanging on plates, and people chattering became rather loud, and Blaise asked just loud enough for the seventh years to hear,

“You’re still mates with them aren’t you?”

“Of course they are, Blaise. It was a fist fight! It’s not like he tried to fuck Granger,” Daphne said with a roll of her eyes... which stopped halfway through their track to widen before they snapped back to stare Draco down. 

It was like the sentence’s possible validity hit the other Slytherin seventh and sixth years at the same time; their eyes widening, their jaws going slack, all deciding to stare at them. Draco and Pansy lifted their brows at them, and acted completely unamused, ignoring the rapid beating of their hearts. If they reacted, it would look suspicious, but acting as if they hadn’t heard her would look even more so.

The two in question looked at one another, settled on devious, amused smirks, and Draco said with a chuckle,

“That would be amusing. How would you feel about that Pansy?” Pansy rolled her eyes, saying,

“I’ll expect that the day Voldemort returns. Pass me the eggs, Arse-toria. And you should choke on a few before you find yourself in a situation you don’t want to be in. There has been plenty of sodding drama and rumors; and the last thing that we- or you-“Pansy paused to stare at Daphne with a lifted brow, and a few seconds to blink a few times in hopes to make a very violent point, “need is problems. 

“So I’d appreciate it if you’d go- drown yourself in the lake, or something.”

The Greengrass girls exchanged a knowing look, and Astoria, by the look on her face, seemed somewhat pleased by this response. She decided to butt in, saying,

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or just defensive…”

“I can’t either… What does that mean?” Theo.

“It either means they tellin’ the truth or they ain’t, Theo.” Goyle, while chewing, though he looked like he didn’t care either way; his response was said in a most casual fashion.

“I think you all need to shut your gobs, because we are making moves that should prove most advantageous. We’re ensuring a peaceful future; something that concerns us greatly… as should it you!” Draco began, a glare gracing his face. “The war tore our families apart, leaving nearly all of us the heads of our households, some of us orphaned, and I’m not going to allow you or anyone else for that matter, to keep me from losing sleep over all of it.

“If I can fix a few of mistakes, I will. My parents can’t do anything about theirs, neither can a lot yours, but I- we- can ensure our futures in knowing that Potter will have our back when it’s time for me to leave this place and begin to pursue higher prospects.” Draco looked at those around him; the green tie horde still giving him a mix of different expressions.

“What I want- is security, “he continued. “What I want- is power… “ This was not a false statement. Draco may have taken some things into account and changed his ways, but he was still Draco Malfoy. The fact that his words were still a bold faced lie didn’t need to be mentioned. 

He wasn’t after Harry for his fame… He just really liked his arse! But that didn’t need to be mentioned either!

“What I want is a future where my name isn’t synonymous with “murderer”, “coward”, “evil”, “Death Eater”… “bigot”… “Pureblood swine”?!” He scoffed. “When, and where, does that oxymoron make sense?” He became suddenly serious when he answered, 

“When it pertains to us…”

His housemates glowered. Not at Draco, but at the world! Because that was truly what they thought them all to be, or had been! The light side had won, and they were left with the ever-hanging cloud of social shunning. Even though the vast majority of the students in their year had remained at school, an obvious sign of their “innocence” in the war, that did not dissuade the students of the other houses of avoiding them, whispering about them, or calling them the many names Draco had just listed.

As a Slytherin, your reputation mattered.

Their reputations were SHITE!

That was unacceptable, and even if Draco’s intentions were nowhere near using the Gryffindor’s “friendship” as a social booster, he was happy that could be a possibility! He was a Slytherin after all… 

And even still, that last bit made him feel a tad bit shitier.

“I’m tired of it,” Draco said loudly, not realizing he was beginning to catch an audience from the Ravenclaw table behind him. “I did what I had to do in a time that was too bloody shitey to recount… a lot shitier than talking to some Gryffindors.”

“It looks like you do more than talk,” Astoria. She’s such a bitch in this story.

“And so what if I do? Does that bother you?”

“Of course it does.” Millicent.

“Good,” Draco said rather rudely at the witch, and then looked to the rest of them, “I’m glad it does. Because now I can say what bothers me. It is the fact that you all feel like remaining stuck in your rut rather than coming out on top! Some Slytherins you are…

“I’m beginning to think I was released from Azkaban as my second shot at flying to my own personal agendas. They have changed, of course, and with good reason, but the destination is the same… If being friends with the people who saved my arse is that big of an issue to you all- I have to wonder where your loyalties lie.

“Is it with me; someone you’ve known all of your lives? Or is it with Voldemort… who no longer has a life? I am going to pretend you’re all taking the former, and I am going to resume eating my breakfast. Thank you all- for being so easy to talk to,” Draco gave a false grin, “You’re all such- great friends.”

()()(*)()()

Gryffindors did not like being stared down; it made them feel like they were being backed into a corner and it was time to pounce. Especially in the situation they were now facing…

A Monday morning, the four of them, together, in the belly of the beast… after the whole school had an entire night (which was long e-fucking-nough) to gossip and the blow this shite out of the water! Well, not entirely. The rumor of the four of them being together would be true, and that’s not exactly blowing things out of the water, now, is it? 

The Heads walked through the Great Hall doors after giving their lovers five or more minutes to settle in, and walked with easy, yet determined, steps as every set of eyes in the room turned to them. The only Professor present was Trelawney, and she seemed only mildly interested by their arrival; the elder witch returning to the cup of tea in her hands with indifference. 

Harry and Hermione had expected this reaction; they had all anticipated it, so why did it seem so difficult to walk? They did so anyway, and they moved to sit at the end of the table- across from one another so that Harry could keep his back to the Slytherin table.

“So- you decided to grace us with your presence?” Seamus asked as they settled- the rest of the hall going silent- some of the others even leaning closer a bit to hear them. Hermione, noticing this malarkey, said simply,

“Of course, Sea. We can’t stay locked up forever.”

“I’m surprised you’re even here, Harry,” Dean.

“I know! McGonagall punished you before she heard about how many were injured yesterday…” Lavender.

Harry chanced a look at the points meter (old habits die hard), and he noticed that both Gryffindor and Slytherin were barely pushing the double digits, telling Harry that both houses must have gotten quite unruly the day before, resulting in major loss of house points. Ravenclaw was at 75, and the Hufflepuff had them all by the balls at 110.

He sighed, loudly, but said nothing more as he continued to serve himself food. Hermione noticed her dark haired boyfriend close himself off, and she answered for him,

“He was punished appropriately.” She turned back to the food before her and began to grab toast and eggs; the Heads ignoring the looks they got from the rest of the table.

“Ok. Out with it. What is up with your new mates? You helped Malfoy, Hermione! Again! After he hit Harry!” Dean looked kind of annoyed; his handsome face in no way being marred by his expression.

“Yeah! Are they who the two of you’ve preferred to hang out with rather than us?” Seamus…

Harry kept quiet, with his eyes on his plate; Hermione looked up at them with lowered lids and said,

“Yes,” Hermione was a Gryffindor after all… “Because we feel it’s important to end whatever battles the war has left behind. They are one of them.”

“As per usual, I like the way you do battle, Mr. Potter,” Dean said with a cheeky grin, “I heard what you said. I may not have brought her into that, but it deserves some kind of standing ovation or something.”

“Shut up, Dean. No more battles, no more ovations. McGonagall is going to be on edge from this, so cut it out. We don’t need to lose any more points,” Hermione said as she felt her irritation become palpable. She looked up at the points meter, and sighed in defeat. 

Hermione shouldn’t give a fuck about points (though it was comforting knowing that that was one of her biggest issues at present) at a time like this, but old habits and all that…

She’d known that facing their classmates would be a bag of flaming shite, and even though it wasn’t going too badly, she didn’t want to continue the conversation. It felt more important to her to put this conversation in the dirt before anyone figured out there was something more than friendship between the four of them. 

Harry, especially, didn’t want this conversation at all… He’d made up with Draco, and that was all that mattered. Unfortunately, no one else had forgiven him, and that was also all that mattered. (Say what?)

“Either way,” Lavender began, “I don’t understand how the two of you could be friends with them. I mean, Harry, she’d’ve preferred to have you killed!”

“Oh. Because no one has preferred that before…” Harry said, his tone grumpy and defensive; his lids lowered at his housemates. “I have chosen to get over all of that. Do you think… that I want to hold on to all of that? Do you think it makes me happy- to hold on to Voldemort and the war?”

The people at the table became quiet, and Harry didn’t realize that everyone else in the Great Hall was beginning to quiet as his voice rose.

“Do you think it wise for me to keep letting this-“ he pointed at his scar, “- talk me into thinking that they-“ he pointed back to the Slytherins who were now watching and listening to him, “- are somehow responsible for all of my heartache and strife? No! Because they aren’t!

“I killed the fucker who did this to us, and now we no longer need to hold onto it! None of us! It’s over! I couldn’t give any more fucks about Draco’s part in it, or Pansy’s part, because I don’t have any more to give! I am tired! I’m eighteen and I am fucking tired!

“They’re my mates, now,” Harry pointed at Draco and Pansy, who were now wide-eyed and trying like hell to avoid the looks they were getting. “Happy? Who cares?! I don’t! I happen to like them! I enjoy hanging out with them. Sometimes, they’re pretty nice, and, sometimes, they can be kind of funny. 

“And they’re nearly as fucked up as I am! We relate to each other! We can all relate to each other, now!

“If you were all, truly, our mates… you would understand how important it is for us to forgive them, and for them to forgive us, and for all of us to grasp the fact that we are all the same! We’re all just a bunch of kids given a shitey draw! And we did what we could with that deal, and we are still here. Now deal with this draw, because it’s better than the last!

“Fuck house rivalry. Fuck that bollocks… because it doesn’t mean anything anymore! Except for the fact that you can’t grow up!” Harry stood, grabbed his plate of food, and stormed out of the silent Great Hall. Hermione grabbed her own plate, and with a shrug to her concerned looking Slytherin friends, followed Harry out the door.

“Ten points to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall called after them. 

(Them)  
Something wicked this way comes  
Creepy crawling giant bugs

Exo-Skeleton armored  
Exo-Skeleton might  
Exo-Skeleton horror  
Exo-Skeleton bite

Beware of THEM!


	22. In the Doorway

“Harry!” Hermione yelled to Harry’s back as they moved through the castle towards, what Hermione could only assume, was Ancient Runes. They ignored those who passed them in the hallways, and Hermione gave apologetic glances to the few people on the stairs that Harry passed without any regard for their personal space. 

Harry cared a little, but he was pretty sure he couldn’t care about the gaping students he passed. He had done his best to ignore the banter at the table; until he snapped and yelled at them. And, on top of that, everyone heard it! It was good, though, because now they didn’t have to pretend they hated each other in public; they could now resort to having conversations with one another- that were meaningful- around others. 

“Harry! Wait!” Hermione yelled again.

The green ties heard Hermione’s yells through the castle, the two having left their breakfasts to follow their lovers once they were able to pull themselves together. They had also chosen to ignore whatever looks they were getting by following them after such a conversation, and had managed not to care very much about the others’ opinions; at least when it came to their Gryffindors.

Draco and Pansy stopped behind Hermione at the bottom of a moving stairway, the three of them looking up at Harry who had stopped at the top, still holding his breakfast as well as a scowl as he turned to look down them.

“What is it?” He asked, the other three choosing that moment to look between themselves with uncertain glances. Harry hadn’t necessarily meant to leave Hermione behind, considering they both had the same class, but he only just a tad bit surprised to see that the Slytherins had followed them.

“Are you- going to be ok, Harry?” Pansy asked once she realized Hermione and Draco had no words for Harry. Pansy could almost always find words. Draco was glad for this quality in his green tie girl, because he was finding it hard to think of a way to calm his boyfriend down, and Hermione was somewhere in between the Slytherins. She wanted to say a great number of things, but couldn’t quite grasp them.

Harry’s shrug was his first answer for Pansy, and he watched in silence as the staircase moved back, allowing the three who followed him to walk up the stairs and stop before him at the top. Hermione watched as Harry’s angered expression softened, and he inhaled deeply before saying,

“Yeah. I’ll be ok. I’m glad we all decided to get that over with…” Harry looked to Draco, and he gave a wry half smile before asking, “How did it go over at Slytherin? They already looked stupefied when we walked in.”

A laugh/sigh left Draco’s lips, his silver eyes rolled; he shook his head, and said, “Exactly as planned, of course. Except I do think Goyle is with us on this one. He didn’t seem as offended at the idea of our- friendship.”

“Finally found sense, has he?” Hermione asked, folding her arms under her breasts. The other three smirked at her, and Draco replied,

“I know we’re a little ahead of ourselves already-” they all shared a few glances, with a mix of more smirks, raised brows, and stupid smiles, “- but let’s not get too far ahead.”

Harry held his smile, because he liked this side of Draco; the easy going, not as much about himself Draco, who’d resorted back to wearing his school uniforms, and decided to flash him smiles instead of glares, and crack jokes instead of snide remarks. 

The fact that he wasn’t screaming like a girl also helped.

Either way, Harry liked Draco so much better this way, and he couldn’t help stepping forward ever so slightly to lean in the few inches to give the blonde a kiss. It was chaste, but it was something, and it was done in public. Granted, there hadn’t been anyone around to see- as most had moved on once Harry had been a little… brutish- but that didn’t matter. 

Draco had returned it, and Hermione had to match the blonde’s smile as he looked down at Harry. She spared another glance at Pansy, who turned to her and grabbed her by the upper arm, nodding somewhere beyond Hermione’s shoulder. The red tie witch turned and looked down the hall, at first worried that someone had witnessed the men’s show of public affection. Then she became confused as she realized it was empty, and she turned back to her girl to ask,

“What is it?”

Pansy sighed, rolled her eyes, and had to laugh at her girl, and she leaned in to whisper, “I have an idea.” into Hermione’s ear. 

The Slytherin witch would have thought it obvious by nodding toward the only door in the short, dead end hallway, but seeing as she hadn’t understood, Pansy slid her hand down Hermione’s arm to take her by the hand and to lead her down the short hall. Hermione followed Pansy, who was walking rather quickly, and watched as her girlfriend pulled her to a door, took her wand from her robes, tapped the doorknob with an “Alohomora”, and opened it. Beyond was an empty classroom. 

Pansy pulled her in, and pressed her lips to Hermione’s, the two women kissing each other lightly as they began to whisper between themselves; just loud enough so that the men wouldn’t be able to hear. 

“I think,” Pansy began as she moved her hands up to removed Hermione’s robes, as well as loosen the witch’s tie, “that we should cheer Harry up. But, I also think that they haven’t been punished enough for yesterday.”

Hermione smiled against her woman’s lips, and said between kisses as she gripped Pansy’s hips, “I agree on both of those statements. What is that you have mind for our men?”

Said men still stood in the hallway, and Harry gave Draco a raised brow as the women moved deeper into the classroom. The blonde returned the look of amusement before glancing around the empty hallway, and moving into the room. Harry moved to set his food down at the feet of a suit of armor, also glancing about, before he entered the classroom behind Hermione and the green ties, and locked it behind them. He also set a silencing charm, just to be safe.

Harry turned back to the others and moved to stand beside Draco, who stood close to the witches to watch as Hermione- who had set her breakfast on a long wooden table- moved her hands to Pansy’s green tie as the Slytherin pushed her to lay back onto the table’s surface; resting easily between Hermione’s exposed thighs. Pansy moved her hands up from Hermione’s legs to pull her shirt from the band of the skirt bunched at her waist. 

It was then that Pansy felt her own skirt being pushed up her hips, and she stopped kissing her woman to give her a nod; telling Hermione that now was the time. 

The Gryffindor witch sat up as Pansy pressed her back against Harry’s chest to move him; the man having come up behind her to get in on the fun; he was holding her skirt up about her waist. The green tie turned to push him into a chair, which he fell into, and she straddled him; noting the bulge that was already growing in his pants. 

Hermione grabbed her tie from beside her, which Pansy had left for her specifically, and moved to Draco, who only stood a meter away. He didn’t say a word, nor did he move to avoid her grasp, as she grabbed him by the tie and pushed him toward Pansy and Harry, kicking a chair out from beneath a long table to place it next to the already seated couple. She pushed Draco to sit, and she mirrored Pansy by straddling the blonde; Harry’s wand hand already up Pansy’s skirt and pressing his thumb against her clit.

Hermione pushed Draco’s robes off of his shoulders- which fell over the back of the chair- before she began to loosen his tie; the man bringing his hands up to slip under her shirt to grip her waist and pull her hips to grind against his own. The curly-haired witch shuddered against him, momentarily losing thought, as she felt his hardened length straining against his pants and up into her knicker covered opening. She let fluttering eyes look to Pansy, who had already removed Harry’s tie, as well as her own, and strained her voice to say,

“Pansy and I think that the two of you have not been properly punished for the shite you put us through yesterday.”

“Yes,” Pansy cut in as she took Harry’s wand hand from her skirt to begin wrapping her tie around one of his wrists, “It is now our turn to discipline you. Now keep your mouths shut or we won’t shag either of you for a week.”

The two men, whose eyes widened at bit at Pansy’s words, watched as she tied Harry’s wrist to the back leg of the chair. Draco, who couldn’t help his smirk, his amused snort, or his smart mouth, said,

“As if you’d be able to do that. Neither of you could stay away from us that long.”

In an instant Draco’s wrists were tied to the back legs of his chair by his and Hermione’s ties, and the sexy witch who’d been slowly grinding atop him stood, and the blonde felt, rather than heard, as the curly-haired woman stuck his ankles to the front legs of his chair. She gave Draco an almost evil looking smirk as she moved away from him, and went to stand behind Harry’s chair where the man was looking around with a smile, a look of confusion, and raised brows. 

Harry, having found out the night before that he enjoyed being submissive, decided that he liked watching Pansy tie him up, and remained silent (like he was told) as the two women began working on the buttons of his shirt. 

Draco watched, indignant, as both women leaned in and down to begin kissing Harry’s neck as they worked on his shirt. Pansy was moving her hips, grinding herself onto him as Hermione’s hands worked quick to pull Harry’s shirt down as far as possible- given the circumstances- and run her nails over his chest, making the man give a groan as he moved his hips up into Pansy.

It took Draco about 5.6 seconds to realize that he was being left out for saying what he did, and, once it clicked, he didn’t know if he began to seethe. Not only was he peeved that he wasn’t being touched at the moment, he was also angry at the fact that his cock was hardening for the very same reason.

(In the Doorway)  
Light  
In the doorway  
Shining so bright  
In the doorway  
I clench your hips  
For the flesh  
You tore my prose  
In the doorway


	23. Dream Lover

Pansy smiled up Hermione over Harry’s head, winking at the Gryffindor witch, before said witch grinned back to say,

“I think that Draco needs to be punished in a different way than Harry.”

“I agree… seeing as he can’t keep his mouth shut,” Pansy replied, looking over to the glaring Draco with a smirk. Draco wasn’t going to give in and open his mouth- even if he knew that Pansy was taunting him- because he wanted more than anything to get the same treatment Harry was getting. 

Even though the green tie man was pulling against his restraints- his arms and hands flexing in an attempt to touch the women- he said nothing as Pansy’s hands made quick work of Harry’s button and fly, and pulled his stiff cock from his trousers to begin stroking him playfully. He groaned again as he pushed himself into her grasp, and both women smiled at one another before Pansy moved off of Harry’s lap to kneel on the floor.

Hermione looked over to Draco as Pansy’s mouth moved over the head of Harry’s cock, and the red-tie witch watched as the blonde bit his lip and glared at his green tie woman, Pansy flicking her tongue over Harry as he groaned as pushed into her. He had been more than angry at his schoolmates not even ten minutes ago, and now they were the farthest thing from his mind as he watched Pansy work. School in general became non-existent as Hermione knelt next to Pansy, and locked eyes with Harry before she too put her mouth to his cock; just near the base; flicking her tongue about as Pansy began to pick up speed.

Harry didn’t even realize Draco was still in the room once both women had a hand at the base of his dick- for stability and to keep it still- as they alternated sucking on his cock and cupping his sack; which had been exposed from his hips moving up and down to get more leverage for the lips that were almost fighting for who got to take in more of him.

When, at one point, the both of them looked up at him, he had to decide if causing a fight in potions later that morning would be worth it, considering that this was his punishment. When he tried to move his tied hands to get lost in both of their hair, he realized that punishment wasn’t as great as it seemed; because, so badly, Harry wanted to grip each woman’s locks and pull them closer; let them both choke on him at his will… 

But that wasn’t happening.

Neither was anything but pain and suffering happening for Draco. More than once he wanted to say something to the women, perhaps even apologize, but he was afraid that they had already decided to please Harry alone; as well as leaving him with blue balls for a week because he made a snarky comment. Draco did not want that, so he chose to bite his lip, and do his best to ignore the painful way he ached in his trousers; which only got worse and worse each time either of the women would look up to catch his eyes.

But, even that was nothing in comparison to watching as Hermione used her hand to pump Harry into Pansy’s mouth as he came; giving a loud gasp as his heightened orgasm broke and he shuddered his load into the green tie’s smiling lips.

Pansy swallowed Harry’s cum, and turned to Hermione, pulling her in for a long kiss to share the taste, before asking,

“What should we do with him?” 

Both women looked from a spent, hard-breathing Harry, to an obviously pained looking Draco. He was trying his best at a glare, but his eyes were pleading with them to touch him. Hermione liked the way that Draco looked to be silently begging, and she turned to Pansy to say,

“I kind of like it when he looks like that.”

“Me too… Here,” Pansy said, grabbing Hermione’s hand as she moved to her feet, and pulled the witch to sit her on the edge of the table that was right in front of Draco. The green tie moved back to her knees before the red-tie witch, and pulled her knickers down and threw them at the blonde, before turning back to give Hermione a grin, and set her mouth to her wet opening.

Hermione knew she couldn’t hide the look of pleasure on her face as she looked down at Pansy; her pussy already soaked from working Harry- and, of course, from the kiss she’d shared with Pansy afterwards and she did nothing to keep herself from gasping and groaning as her girlfriend worked her perfect mouth to relieve the pressure that had been building since she awoke with the green tie’s tits in her face.

They had classes soon, but even that didn’t matter once she looked up from Pansy’s eyes and towards Draco’s and Harry’s. With the three of them looking at her all at once, almost similar to the way it had been the night before when she’d been triggered, it was completely different somehow. Maybe it was the fact that Draco was tied up, and Harry looked like he’d gotten off- despite his cock still being hard; or maybe she was so randy it didn’t matter once Pansy’s tongue started pressing into her clit in that oh so earth shattering way, but Hermione was getting off on the three of them watching her.

Harry bit his lip as he watched Hermione’s legs wrap themselves around Pansy’s shoulders, and as she leaned back to press her face farther into Pansy’s lips, and as the beautiful witch tipped her head back to give amazing moans that were giving his barely softening cock new life.

Draco, however, was on the verge of dying. Not literally, of course, but he was sure that his boxers were soaked in the front from pre-cum, and it only took a minute or two of watching Hermione move against Pansy’s face for him to finally croak out,

“Please.”

It wasn’t very loud, but it was just loud enough for the three other people in the room to hear it, and turn to look at the blonde. Draco was on fire with nerves, and the pain in his sack was near unbearable. Any more displays, and he was sure no one would actually need to touch him; he’d just blow in his pants.

“Please what?” Hermione asked him, moving her hand back to Pansy’s hair to keep the woman busy. The witch was happy to oblige her bossy girlfriend, returning her tongue to the pink flesh, and deciding to bring her hand up and lose a finger in the Gryffindor. 

Draco was above pleading, he knew this… But in this situation? Wasn’t this the only situation Draco Malfoy should beg for something; when two women were just out of reach, and maybe, possibly, willing to shag him if he begged them? Hermione seemed please enough by his pleading, but that hadn’t saved Pansy last night.

“Please-” Draco began again, becoming frustrated with the ache in his balls enough to finally break down, “-oh, fuck. Pansy. Hermione. Please- just- fuck me, already. I’m sorry I said anything!”

This made Hermione smile at him, and she gripped Pansy by the back of the hair, pulled –gently enough- the witch up onto her feet, and pushed her towards Harry. 

“He was good,” Hermione said as she pointed to Harry, the Gryffindor witch deciding that she liked playing the dominant, bossy role, “so you can fuck him. Draco, well…” she gave him a raised brow, “I’ll take care of him.”

The blonde looked up at Hermione with a glare that still had pleading eyes, all while Pansy had moved to remove her knickers, and lower herself onto Harry’s still hard cock. 

Hermione, who watched her girlfriend obey her orders, looked to Draco with a haughty expression, the witch crossing her arms and smirking at him like a total snatch, and he made a note to give the woman a good spanking once he was released.

There was nothing he could do but watch as Hermione grabbed her wand from her robe pockets, waved it a few times, removing the clothes from everyone in the room- which only caused Harry and Pansy to smile as she continued to ride him easier- and leaving Draco exposed with the shame of his purple cock; the tip of which glinted with pre-cum. He continued to watch as Hermione moved to him, straddled him while sitting down firmly on his cock, 

Draco had to sit forward and sink his teeth into Hermione’s collar bone as she sunk onto him, the witch basking in the feeling of his swollen cock, as it became increasingly difficult for Draco to hold onto his resolve. The feeling of the witch atop him was too perfect- too tight, too hot, too soft- and he had to keep his wits about him as his temperature heightened, and sweat pricked at his skin, and the sounds of both witches riding them took Draco over the edge too quickly for his liking.

Harry listened as Draco got off, allowing the sounds of the man to his right to bring him closer to the edge, the raven-haired man deciding that the sound of Draco Malfoy coming in Hermione Granger was something he’d probably never grow tired of hearing; nor would he ever get tired of watching as Pansy gripped the back of Harry’s chair for support as she ground herself into him, and cried out her release as her back arched and gave Harry perfect access to her nipples.

“Oh, Merlin! Hermione,” Pansy said as she stopped her movements; her orgasm fading slowly as she struggled to move with her trembling legs. “Trade me.”

Hermione, who was still straddling Draco’s softening cock, gave the blonde a kiss- which he returned with a smile- before Pansy stood with shaking legs to allow Hermione to take her place on Harry; while the green tie witch crawled- on all fours- over to Draco to untie him.

It took a moment for Draco to gain his composure, but when he did he moved enough so that he could land a few sharp smacks on Hermione’s arse while she rode Harry, her head lolling back as she let loud, whimpering statements:

“Fuck, yes! I love riding your cock, and I love it when Draco smacks my arse-“Draco did so again, a grin on his face, “- I love when Pansy lets me fuck her face.” 

It was Pansy’s turn to smack Hermione on the arse; the green tie witch moving from her place by Draco’s chair to help as the blonde reached over and began to tease one of Hermione’s nipples; Harry sat forward to use his mouth to suckle and nip at the other; Pansy’s hand moving around the witch to play with her clit; the three of them together forcing the Gryffindor witch to shudder and come as Harry moved his hips to buck up into her.

(Dream Lover)  
Every night I hope and pray a dream lover will come my way  
A girl to hold in my arms and know the magic of her charms  
'Cause I want- a girl- to call- my own  
I want a dream lover so I don't have to dream alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love a good cover.


	24. She

“How’s the potion?” Pansy asked Hermione from her place on the Head Girl’s bed. 

The Slytherin assumed the bed hadn’t been used until the night before, when Harry had pinned her down onto it; dropping his boxers to fuck her into the covers while Hermione and Draco had been having fun of their own. She and Harry and returned to the two stark naked on the couch, covered in sweat, and not a one of them seemed to give a shit that they’d had endeavors without it being the four of them. Though, if that morning could attest to anything, the four of them together was so much fun. 

Even still, Pansy took pride in knowing she’d fucked Harry Potter on Hermione Granger’s bed. 

Slytherins took pride in odd things.

“It’s green,” Hermione stated, never allowing her intense brown eyes to leave the cauldron that sat before her on the floor, brewing their advanced Girding Potion. 

Pansy moved from the bed, forgetting her conceited nature, and moved to the small vial rack to help as the Gryffindor used her wand to uncork the vials, and the Slytherin began to fill the vials. When their work was done, Hermione acciod the small box from the top of her bureau and tapped it with the tip of her wand, the box springing into action. 

It grew five times larger, to be about the size of a trunk, and it opened up to reveal a mostly empty potions storage space; something the witch had decided to purchase once the war had settled.

“We should start working on filling this,” Pansy said to her girlfriend as they began to label the potions and set them in the section Hermione decided they belonged in. Pansy loved potions; whether it be brewing, reading about them, or creating ones of her own, she loved it. And, seeing as she seemed to have taken to the woman beside her, she didn’t know why she couldn’t help her. 

Not that Hermione Granger needed help with doing anything studious.

“We?” Hermione asked, turning to Pansy with a grin, the Slytherin witch rolling her eyes as she replied,

“Yes, Hermione. We.” Pansy leaned over and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek, and pulled away to grab their advanced potions book, where they were working through the last three hundred pages that year. “We could work on some Felix Felices once Harry gets back, or we could-"

The Slytherin was stopped mid-sentence by Hermione putting her lips to hers, the Gryffindor witch grinning as she leaned into her girlfriend, pleased by the fact that the woman wanted to spend time with her, and help with something they mutually enjoyed.

Hermione hadn’t expected to grow so attached to the witch, so much so that she hadn’t thought twice earlier that day when potions had come, and the red tie witch sat down next to the green-tie one. Their house mates had given them all strange looks all day, and had refrained from talking to them during classes. Neither of the four in question thought it was from hate (Well, maybe the other Slytherins hated it), but instead from the fact that none of them knew what to say. Hermione and Pansy laughing over something Draco said to Harry was a little too much for the students- and the teacher- of Advanced Potions to comprehend.

The four of them sitting at the end of Gryffindor table for dinner- just before the men had left the women to go to detention with Hagrid- had been equally difficult for everyone to accept. That is, besides McGonagall- who was more than pleased, even if she knew what the fuck was up (because she totally did)- and Luna and Neville, who decided that sitting with them was a good idea.

The four being, mostly, ignored didn’t mind, even if Neville had had nothing to say while his girlfriend had plenty. The Ravenclaw and Draco had spent ten minutes talking about Malalclaw venom and its benefits… which there were none for, but Draco had obliged her anyway. It had been odd for the blonde’s girlfriends to watch him interact with the other woman, because they were all aware of the last time Draco and Luna were in close quarters.

Shagging until the Gryffindors had had to go to Ancient Runes had done wonders for the Slytherin man’s mood, apparently. It had done nothing, however, for the moods of the higher-year Slytherins across the hall; the group of 16-18 year olds casting glares at the six who sat blatantly ignoring them.

All in all, the day had been eventful, and both women were happy to be away from prying eyes as the kiss on the cheek went to a kiss on the lips, which quickly moved to a snogging/petting session on the floor near the newly extinguished cauldron fire; Hermione on her back; her hands having pulled up Pansy’s skirt and were groping the globes of her arse; Pansy had lost her hands in her girlfriend’s, surprisingly fun to play with, hair, and she began to nip at Hermione’s lower lip. 

The Gryffindor liked the feeling of a little pain- just a little- and she adjusted so as to grind against Pansy’s hip bone as she held the witch’s arse a little tighter. The Slytherin grinned into the eager woman below her, and said into Hermione’s mouth,

“What do you think would happen if we took that girding potion?”

When Pansy had let Hermione’s lips go, she’d moved them to the woman on top’s collar bone. Upon hearing her question, she gave it great considering as she used her tongue to taste her woman’s skin. Quite a number of responses came to Hermione as she brought her hands up to the waistline of Pansy’s knickers, and pushed them over her arse and down her thighs before she pulled the woman ever so slightly higher up her body, and reached down between their bodies to find that Pansy was already wet. Hermione knew she was, and it was with all things considered that she pulled her mouth away to say,

“Harry and Draco would be mad if we took them without them.”

“Who said-“Pansy began, but stopped to gasp as Hermione’s skilled fingers began to rub pleasurable circles around her clit, “- we- we…” she gave another gasp,”… who said it had to be without them? We took care of the potion didn’t we?”

Hermione stopped and set her head back onto the plush carpet to look Pansy in the eyes and ask,

“What do you mean?”

“Where’s Harry’s invisibility cloak? I say we go to detention.”

Pansy had been thinking about it all day, and had been surprised when no one else had thought to bring it up. Sure, Harry had suggested the girls get detention too, somehow, but that had been when Hermione had gone off, 

“I’m not getting detention, nor am I going to earn one by sneaking out! We almost got caught by Filch the last time we snuck out, remember? And even if McGonagall was feeling forgiving about your choice of words at breakfast, Harry, I doubt she’d be happy about Pansy and I-” And… that had been when Draco had slipped his hand up her skirt, and into her knickers, right in the middle of brewing potions, to “shut her up”. 

Hermione hadn’t realized her voice had been rising while she’d laid out the facts, but that hadn’t mattered once she’d nearly bit her fingers off to keep from crying out when Draco had gotten her off; Pansy and Harry on either of side of them, taking notes and preparing ingredients whilst stifling grins. 

Needless to say, Hermione’s low mark in potions class that day had been Draco’s payback for that morning.

Anyway, Hermione still felt the same way she had earlier about the situation, and she opened her mouth to reiterate her point; that is until Pansy stuck two fingers into the Gryffindor’s open mouth to keep her from bitching her out. Hermione almost choked at the intrusion, but Pansy kept her hand in place.

“Shut your mouth,” Pansy- who loved to get what she wanted- commanded, however sweetly. “We’re going to find them whether you want to or not. But first…”

It was then that Pansy pulled her fingers from the witch’s scowl and moved back down Hermione’s body to slip her now wet digits into the red-tie’s wet, clenching canal. The Gryffindor moaned- but kept her eyes on Pansy’s- as her hands moved up under the woman’s shirt, and under her bra to begin playing with her breasts; pinching her nipples between her thumb and the knuckle of her forefinger as she squeezed the globes together, and while the walls of her pussy squeezed Pansy’s fingers, the raven-haired witch giving her own moans when Hermione would apply the right pressure on the sensitive buds.

It didn’t take Pansy long to work her girl into a frenzy, even if it had taken some serious concentration at one point. Once Hermione’s eyes began to roll back into her head before she had to clamp them shut, Pansy had ripped the buttons off Hormone’s shirt to open it, and pulled the writhing woman’s bra down to suck and tongue at her nipples, her fingers pumping the until the brunette cried out,

“Oh, my gods, Pansy! I’m coming!”

Pansy pulled away from Hermione completely once the words passed her lips, leaving her partner high and not so dry… The Slytherin gave the confused and affronted looking witch a smirk before she grabbed a vial Girding Potion from the box and rolled it on the floor in the Gryffindor’s direction.

(She)  
She walked out with empty arms  
Machine gun in her hand  
She is good and she is bad  
No one understands


	25. Lost in Space

“I ne’er thought I’d have yeh two fer detention again,” Hagrid greeted Harry and Draco as the two walked up to the half-giant who stood outside the door of his hut, a lantern and his crossbow in his hands.

Harry and Draco had left the women in Hermione’s dorm some twenty minutes ago to report to their first night of detention. It had been hard for them to do so because this meant that their free nights together were officially over, and it was made even harder when Hermione had refused to join them, which only worsened when Pansy had taken her side in the matter, saying that they did in fact have to take the Girding Potion off the burner sometime after they left. 

Anyway, the women had studying to do and potions to store, and the two men tried not to think about how far behind they could possibly fall with their nights of detention. Sure, they didn’t study too much on these nights anyway, but some of their time had been spent being productive rather than just reproductive. This night, it would seem, would be productive for Professor Slughorn; the elderly wizard now able to rest easy for the next two months when it came to harvesting ingredients from the forest. 

This was usually left to first year detentions, for Merlin knows what reason, but it was the two “rival” men’s job this evening. Minerva had sent them their letters at lunch, which they had decided to take in the Head’s dorm, instructing them to report to Hagrid’s after dinner, and to be back by one in the morning. Harry and Hermione were equally happy they did not have Ancient Runes the next morning; but that had been overshadowed by the fact that Pansy had History of Magic, and Draco had Advanced Charms.

“Hello, Hagrid,” Harry greeted his towering Professor.

“Good evening, Professor,” Draco said with as much kindness as he could muster. Sure, he’d gotten over a few social hurtles. Had he conquered all of them? No.   
Hell no.

“Harry,” Hagrid greeted with a smile, which faded as he turned to Draco to say, “Malfoy.” Harry glanced to Draco, who glanced back when he noticed the look he’d been given. The red-tie was not unaware of the fact that the blonde beside him had tensed when he’d been spoken to.

“D’ya both know what we’re looking fer out there?” Hagrid asked them, and they shook their heads.

“No,” Harry answered.

“McGonagall said that I could opt teh let yeh two go alone, but I think the old girl has lost ‘er mind… I need teh go, if anything to pull the two ‘o yeh apart when you start squabblin’. Come on, Fang.” Hagrid said, and the massive mastiff stood from his haunches and moved to follow Hagrid around the hut and towards the forest edge.

Draco looked to Harry, who shrugged, and the two made after the half-giant.

“I gotta say,” Hagrid continued as they walked toward the edge of the wood, “that I’m surprised McGonagall didn’t have yer heads for that little stunt yeh pulled. I get it, though… Boys will be boys, and all that... I also gotta admit you got quite a nasty hook, Malfoy, for someone who can’t handle being roughed up a bit.”

Draco glared, despite being complimented on his fisticuff prowess, because he knew that Hagrid was bringing up that blasted Hippogriff situation. ‘Backtweak, or whatever its name was,’ Draco thought bitterly. The thing really had almost taken his arm! He could have bled to death! Pansy could vouch for that.

“I’m sure he’s glad you think so,” Harry butted in before Draco could say the nasty thing he could tell the blonde was going to retort with. “So, what are we looking for, exactly?”  
Draco lightly elbowed Harry in the bicep, and the Gryffindor looked back at him another shrug. The blonde returned a mocking shrug, coupled with a sour face, and Harry glared back.

“We are looking for asphodel, dittany, and…” Hagrid reached into his pocket for a small bit of parchment, held up his lantern to it, and read, “… and hemlock.” 

“Why does Slughorn need hemlock?” Draco asked, not entirely sure he wanted to deal with that nonsense. 

“Does it matter?” Hagrid asked without turning to address the blonde. Draco frowned, and decided to stay quiet as the four of them walked into the forest, their lanterns held high as they continued their trek.

When Harry, who hadn’t ever thought he’d walk back into the blasted forest, ever again, had asked Draco in a whisper, “It’s not like the first time, is it?” The blonde had responded in his own shushed tone as he swaggered at Harry’s side,

“Not quite… Now that I actually like you and Hermione, it’s a shame she deems non-lethal rule breaking as unworthy of getting detention for, because I’ve grown to enjoy her company. We can still live without Longbottom, though.” 

Harry had been in agreeance with his boyfriend up until the last bit, at which he frowned and whispered back,

“I get where you’re going with that, but still.”

A few minutes later, Harry had inquired as to what hemlock looked like- having never paid too much attention to the poisons section of any book- and Draco began to tell him as best he could, wherein Hagrid decided to add, “We still have twenty minutes or so ‘fore we get ter the clearing. The dittany is another half hour from tha'.” 

As the minutes wore on, Harry and Draco whispered back and forth as to what they thought the poisonous plant was for, until Hagrid cut in to say, “Not too long now. Keep yer ears sharp. We’re goin' teh pass the Acromantula nest. I’ve been back ter check since the war, and it’s empty… But yeh never know, do yeh?”

“That sounds splendid,” Draco replied dryly. 

Luckily, nothing happened, not even as they reached the clearing that Hagrid said held the asphodel and hemlock. Draco pointed the two plants out to Harry; the one, all green spindly bush, that was hemlock, and the one with tall stalks that had tops that popped with bright, white and purple flowers, was asphodel. As they began to gather the plants- Draco showing Harry how to harvest the hemlock safely- Hagrid turned to them and said,

“I’m going ter go ahead and find the dittany. I have some grading teh do, and I want this night teh be over. The two o’ ya have been behavin’ well enough…” Draco and Harry glanced at one another before turning back to look at their Professor. “If yeh need help, which I doubt yeh do, Harry,” both students rolled their eyes, though for different reasons, “then send up red sparks. I’ll be back. Wait for me here when yer done, yeh hear? Get as much as you can.”

“Yeah. We will,” Harry answered as he and the silent, scheming Draco watched Hagrid and Fang move through the trees towards their last ingredient, and out of sight.

When the man’s footsteps were no longer audible, Harry, who had let his guard drop around the blonde over the past almost two months, had just enough time to register that Draco was moving toward him before the blonde had him by the sides of his face. The Gryffindor did not protest as the Slytherin put his lips to his, nor did he protest when he pushed him back against a tree; Harry’s hands moving to Draco’s hips as he was stuck between the trunk and the Slytherin’s slightly taller form.

The green tie, who wore a smirk through his kissing Harry, moved his hands from the man’s face and down to his hips, where he pulled them flush to his own to grind his semi-hard length against him. Harry responded with a moan into Draco’s lips, and the Slytherin gripped the man harder as the Gryffindor’s erection became quickly obvious to the blonde. 

Harry, though more than happy to be getting time alone with Draco, was more than aware of the fact that he wasn’t going to be the one on bottom tonight. Yes, he’d enjoyed himself. Yes, it was definitely happening again. But, was it happening right now..? No. If anything, Harry was going to be the one to stick Draco to the ground, and finally have a go at the blonde.

The Slytherin, who was also aware of the fact that it was his turn, felt the ache in his abdomen grow at the thought of giving in to Harry, and didn’t resist when the red tie grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him to the ground, the Gryffindor on top and between Draco’s legs as the two continued to kiss one another.

However, neither knew that they were not alone, and they continued to kiss, and to relieve each other of their clothes. 

Draco had managed to pull Harry’s shirt open, and Harry relieved Draco of his own before moving a hand down to the front of the blonde’s pants; where he found the telling sign of his arousal. Harry bit his lip and as he pressed his palm into Draco, and the Slytherin moved his hips up to grind against the raven-haired man’s hand, desperately seeking friction as he felt his heartbeat speed up, and his blood rush through his veins and bring heat to his skin. 

The Gryffindor man was basking in the sounds of Draco’s groans and gasps as the red-tie pressed his palm against him; used his fingers to stroke the other man as best he could through the fabric. With heated haste, Harry put his lips back to Draco’s as he undid the blonde’s trousers, and reached his hand down the front of them to grasp the other man fully in his hand.

Harry had noticed the man’s girth when he had been his mouth, and had noticed it further as he’d been in his arse, and he felt the urge to put the blonde in his mouth as he had before.

So he did.

Draco gasped, bucked his hips, once Harry’s mouth began to work his length, and the Slytherin lost his fingers in the raven hair that obscured his already shoddy vision. The dark forest wasn’t allowing much light, but Draco didn’t need any to know that Harry’s tongue was bringing him to full stiffness. So, so badly, Draco wanted to flip Harry onto his back, pull his trousers off, and bury himself in the man’s tight arse; but the blonde knew better than to do that now. 

Next time. 

Yes… Next time…

The Slytherin heard himself begin to moan and groan as Harry began to work him perfectly, dropping down to take as much of Draco in as possible, only to move and twist his hand and mouth to make the blonde want to go mad.

“Merlin, Harry. Your mouth feels fucking good.”

At Draco’s words, Harry let go and sat up, reaching out to grab the top of the green-tie’s pants and boxers; pulling the articles down and off of his ankles to throw them somewhere into the dark. Harry unzipped his own trousers quickly, and pulled them down so that his cock- which had been painfully restricted- could spring free.

The green-tie wizard began to quake, though he hoped Harry didn’t notice, as the red-tie took the blonde’s legs by the back of the knees, and pushed them up to expose him to the cool air.

The red-tie wizard was quaking from anticipation, though he hoped Draco didn’t notice, as he pressed the blonde man’s legs back, before he cast a lubricating charm on one his hands to stroke it along his cock, before setting the tip at Draco’s arse, and began to push himself in.

(Lost in Space)  
Of all the things they taught you, I'm telling you this son  
All the wars fought before won't compare to this one  
Giant spiders prepare to take over

Am I following...all of the right leads?  
Or am I about to get lost in space?


	26. The Hunger

Hermione and Pansy watched as Draco let Harry lay him down on the forest floor; watched as Harry pushed his length into Draco, which caused the Slytherin to whimper, and the Gryffindor to gasp.

“Oh- shite!” Harry exclaimed, and the Gryffindor witch felt her already aching core begin to burn. Her treacherous girlfriend had left her with “blue ovaries”, and claimed she’d only let her come when they’d found their men and figured out a way to trick Hagrid into leaving them alone to romp freely in the dark, forbidden, not as scary as it used to be, forest.

Fortunately, Hagrid was already gone, and, fortunately, the two women weren’t missing a very note-worthy moment in their lovers’ relationship. Neither woman had thought they’d stumble upon the two snogging against a tree, and neither woman thought to stop them. Instead, they just stood and watched as Draco tried to give in.

“Bloody hell!” Draco exclaimed as Harry pulled out, only to slowly push himself back in. “This hurts!” 

Pansy snickered, and Hermione elbowed her lightly.

“Too bad,” Harry responded. “Relax. It hurts more when you resist.”

Pansy snickered again, a little louder this time, and Hermione took it upon herself to turn to the witch and reach over to pinch her nipple. The green-tie gave a small gasp, and the two women froze within the cloak to see if either man heard Pansy. They hadn’t; Harry just continued to move in and out of Draco at a slow, even pace as he gave the blonde time to adjust. 

But, after ten or more slow strokes, Harry ground out,

“Fuck, Draco. I need to go faster.”

Draco said nothing; he simply moved his legs to better fit over Harry’s shoulders, and held onto the bespectacled man’s forearms as Harry began to move in and out of the blonde faster; the pleasurable movements bringing loud moans from Harry, and almost pitiful whimpers from Draco. 

Pansy’s eyes were glued to the men who moved on the forest floor; her bottom lip between her teeth and her gaze hungry. She reached over to take Hermione’s hand in her own once Draco’s whimpers turned to moans, and then from moans to pleas…

“Merlin, Harry… This- it’s starting to feel good. Don’t stop.”

“I’m not,” Harry said, before leaning forward, bring Draco’s knees closer to his face, and his arse farther off the ground, to kiss the moaning, pleading man beneath him. When Harry pulled away, Hermione watched his hand disappear between the two of them, and it only took her a second to realize that the red-tie was stroking the green-tie’s cock in time with his thrusts.

It was then that Draco seemed to fall apart; his pleas were no longer discernable, and he was clutching at Harry’s shirt sleeves as the red-tie began to move faster and faster, groaning and swearing loudly, soon pounding into a writhing, groaning, gasping, swearing, coming Draco.

“Oh, fuck! Harry- I’m coming!” Draco cried out as he moved himself up against Harry in his climax, and it was with his loud exclamation that Hermione grabbed her wand, and began to recite incantation after incantation to keep the sound inside of their section of the clearing, as well as keeping Hagrid from seeing anything if he decided to come back.

She would have done so sooner, but the show, you know… It was too good.

The witches watched and listened as Draco came, and continued to do so as Harry kept pumping in and out of blonde, before a string of swears and jerking of his hips signaled he’d gotten off as well. When the raven-haired man slumped slightly, and craned to kiss Draco passionately, which the blonde reciprocated, Pansy decided it was time to jump out from under the cloak and begin applauding.

“Good show! Bravo!” She exclaimed with a grin, and Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes as the men were startled and jumped away from one another, trying in vain to cover themselves until they realized who the intruder was. Once the two men began to glare at the grinning green-tie girl, Hermione decided to drop the cloak from her head and tried to smile at them as innocently as possible.

“Pansy!” Draco yelled, before he acciod his pants out of habit of being caught with them off.

“No!” Pansy yelled as she ran to Draco to stop him, pushing him onto his back once more, straddling him and saying, “There is no way you’re getting dressed yet. I didn’t drink Girding Potion and practically run out here to let you get dressed.”

“You drank the potion?” Harry asked the two women, only for Hermione to move to him and straddle him as well. With a flick of her wrist and Scourgify, she cleaned Harry off and said,

“Yes. And I let her convince me to come out here against my better judgement. Now lay back and let me ride you.”

Even though both men had just spent themselves, neither complained; they simply laid back on the ground next to one another as the women took their cocks in their hands, and began to work them back to life. Both women knew it would take some coaxing, so Hermione set in on the dirty talk to ensure that she was able to get the most out of her evening:

“This slut,” Hermione began as she reached over to give Pansy’s arse a slap, “fingered me until I was about to come, and then told me I had to find you to get off.”

Hermione continued to play with Harry, who did not reply to her with words, but instead gave Pansy an all too charming smile. The curly haired witch sat back and gave her fellow Gryffindor’s cock a light slap at the look he gave their girlfriend, to which he had words,

“Oi! Don’t slap my cock!”

The red-tie witch didn’t, at least in that moment, like Harry commanding her. When she was on her knees, and he was slapping the globes of her arse until they were red, was one of the only times he was able to command.

Now was not one of those times.

“I think she’ll do as she pleases,” Pansy answered for Hermione with a grin, her own hands working on Draco’s cock and sack as she continued, “because I had her panting and moaning my name almost the entire time you blokes were gone. She couldn’t wait to see things from our point of view once I pulled my fingers out of her box.” 

Hermione gave Pansy’s arse another slap, and she continued to stroke Harry’s now stiffening prick as she growled back at her girlfriend, 

“I should have stuck you to the floor and sat on your face for that bollocks.”

“I’d like to see that,” Draco said with a chuckle as he finally came down from his “first time”. He too was responding nicely to the women’s banter, which Pansy continued,

“You might be seeing it, but with reversed roles.”

“I’m sure you’d love that,” Hermione said back, only a tiny bit genuine in her serious tone.

“Of course I would. Any chance I get to shut your mouth is a welcome one. Especially if it means coming on that pretty face,” Pansy replied with a smirk. She loved how often she gotten to talk about someone else’s need to talk too much when Hermione was around.

But, the Gryffindor, who always ready to prove her point, let go of Harry to grab Pansy by the back of the neck and put her lips to hers. Harry gave them only a few seconds before he grabbed Hermione by the waist, and flipped her onto her back, pressing the woman into the earth. Pansy had only a moment to glare at Harry before Draco had her pinned to the ground next to Hermione; the witch’s faces only centimeters apart as the two men bunched their skirts up to their waists (the women had said to hell with knickers on this trip), and guided themselves in their respective witch.

()()()()()  
Hagrid was gone for some time… but only just long enough for Pansy and Hermione to get off a collective total of seven times; Hermione taking the win at four. 

By the time the half-giant and his giant hound returned to the clearing, the four students were already dressed, and had harvested plenty of ingredients. The witches were back under the Cloak, and they followed the four males out of the forest in silence; hand in hand.

When Hagrid was safely in his hut, and the four were making their way back to bed- the day ahead already promising fatigue- Hermione pulled the cloak from her head to say,

“I need a bloody pain draught. I call a time out on all sexcapades for at least two days. I’m also going to need some sleep.”

“Novice,” Pansy replied with a scoff.

“You said it,” Harry said as he slung his arm over Pansy’s shoulders.

“No. I’m going to have to say I’m with ‘Mione,” Draco added, taking Hermione’s hand in his own, which she took happily.

“Novice,” Harry mimicked with a laugh as he looked over at the blonde man he’d just recently had the pleasure of fucking. Draco gave him a raised brow, but couldn’t hide his smile.

“I’m serious. I think my pussy is swollen,” Hermione said.

Pansy snickered.

(The Hunger)  
We are the children  
The hungry children

We become  
Erupt in violence  
Seduce the silence  
Our time has come  
Go


	27. Teenagers From Mars

Things were good. Things were really, really good. So fucking good, that it was hard to put into words!

Not only had they managed to move about freely without being harassed (though there were many who were still perplexed by the situation), but they had also managed to keep up with classes, detentions, and Head/Prefect duties. 

Well - maybe not so much on their round duties…

A couple times a week (the four having agreed to no longer risk the Forbidden Forest again, despite how satisfying it had been), the pair not on rounds would finish their studies, and would then find the pair who were- using the Map and the Cloak, of course- and escapades would ensue; things that were better left behind the closed doors of abandoned classrooms, the Room of Requirement, the Astronomy Tower, and strong silencing charms.

… “Shite, Hermione! Keep doing that… Yeah, like that. Fuck, I’m coming! Keep it in your mouth… Swallow it…”…

… “No one-” thrust “-said anything-” thrust “-about me stopping-” thrust “-Draco.”…

… “Jesus Christ! That’s too many fingers, Pansy!”…

… “You might want to let up with that belt, mate… She’s turning purple…”

… “Fuck yes! Oh, fuck my pussy!”…

… “ThereisaGodthereisaGodthereisaGodthereisaGod-” …

… “Harry. Shut up, and put your tongue in my arse.”…

… “Would one of you, please, let me down? The leather is cutting into my- everywhere...” …

Two weeks had gone by; the Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch rematch had been scheduled, and the Heads and Prefects had attended for the support of their friends, even though the Slytherin House had hardly spoken to Pansy or Draco, which the two minded a bit. 

They- the Slytherins- at one point, had been each other’s only pillar of support. When the war was in full swing, it was expected of all of them to take a certain side; the side of their fathers, and their fathers before them… Now that they could choose their own path, they were still having difficulty speaking with their two estranged housemates.

At the Quidditch games, Draco and Pansy sat next to Greg at the end of the line; the man being the only Slytherin willing to talk to them. Draco was happy for that. Pansy, who had been close with Daphne and Millicent, found that the two women wouldn’t talk to her, even though they never did anything outright or to her face. She had Hermione though; the two witches brewing potion after potion. 

Hermione and Harry were saddened to find that their fellow Gryffindors, besides Neville, were still having trouble coping with the change as well. Though they would still talk to them and smile and wave, they never did so when the Slytherins were around. 

To say the least, the four had spent the past two weeks switching back and forth between their dorm rooms, and that suited them just fine, seeing as Harry and Hermione had had to plan the Halloween Ball. Draco and Pansy had helped, and the four of them were mutually excited to get Minerva’s owl back stating that their plans had been accepted, and that a Hogsmeade trip was to be announced for that coming weekend; wherein the four- as well as the other Prefects- were expected to keep an eye out for their fellow students.

Draco had rolled his eyes at this, saying, “Why did I say yes to responsibility again?”

“I don’t know, love,” Harry said, shaking his head at the blonde, “I’ve been wondering why I keep saying yes to that shite myself.”

The owls from Minerva were not the only ones received in this period of time. The first had been from Ginny, and it read as follows:

Hermione,  


I’m sorry I haven’t owled you in a while. I’ve been spending a lot of time with Fleur and Bill. They say hello and send their love. George has been working a lot, as has Bill, Ron and dad. Fleur says she and Bill are trying for a baby, which is making my mum happier than I’ve seen her in months.  


We’re all wondering how you and Harry are doing. Even Ron, even if he’s being a total tosser right now. We are all being tossers right now. I should have responded to you and said yes to going to school, but I’m not sure I want to do that, Hermione. Even if being at the Burrow is depressing, I think being at Hogwarts would be worse. But you should tell me when you get Hogsmeade weekend, and I’ll meet you there.

Tell Harry hello for me, and Ron says hello, even if he hasn’t reached out either. He says he’s heard things at the Ministry about the two of you being friends with Malfoy, and I think he’s being a loon. You should owl him. For me, would you?

I love you, Mione. I hope to hear from you soon.

Love, Gin

Hermione had passed the letter to Harry at breakfast, which the four had decided to take at the Ravenclaw table with Luna and Neville, the blonde woman stating that one of the two Gryffindors should owl Ginny back before the blue tie got a letter asking about them. Luna claimed she wasn’t getting in on it; the astute witch definitely knew about the four of them, though they’d never confirmed anything.

Not even with each other.

While outside of the dorm rooms, the four did not show sign of affection; unless, of course, you were Draco Fucking Malfoy. But, as he saw it, he could slap Pansy’s arse whenever he wanted to- which she did not agree to, though she never really stopped him from doing- and he was also allowed to touch either of Gryffindors under the table whenever he wanted to… which they never really stopped him from doing either. He was discreet about it, and did it only in opportune moments, and it would seem that they had managed to keep their “love life” a secret. 

Their friendship, however, was sure to have hit Ron- seeing as some of the Ministry officials had children attending Hogwarts- and Harry had decided (after Minerva’s response) he would be the one to deal with the red-headed tornado, so he wrote,

Ron,

It’s Hogsmeade weekend! Meet Hermione and me at the Broomsticks on Saturday for lunch at noon?

-Harry

“I’m guessing that means I can’t treat my lovers to lunch?” Draco asked in an only slightly annoyed drawl as the four lounged on his bed that Tuesday night after their rounds. It was late, but they were young, and could sleep when they were dead.

Harry and Hermione gave each other a look at Draco’s annoyed tone.

As far as their open friendship went, the two Gryffindors weren’t necessarily afraid to tell Ron about “being friends” with the Slytherins. He could take it or leave it, and that was that. They had all decided- however stubborn Ron had been at first- to agree to Draco being released. A friendship after such an event wasn’t too foreign a concept.

However, telling Ron that there was romance involved was a huge, automatically given, “Fuck no!”

“You could join us,” Hermione responded to Draco, “but I’m not sure I want to deal with playing referee between another boxing match.” The four of them shared a look, though Draco seemed a little more annoyed than he’d been a second ago. Pansy, noting that Draco realized he was the mostly guilty party in all of this, turned to Hermione and said,

“You’re free to do whatever you’d like. You act like we don’t understand reputation, or something,” the witch rolled her eyes and waved her hand in dismissal. “If it is easier for you to leave it at the three of you, Draco and I have shopping we can do.”

Draco nodded, said something about not wanting to visit the Broomsticks anyway, and that was settled… 

Eventually, Hogsmeade weekend came.

When the Saturday before Halloween dawned- a day after Ron had owled them back with an affirmative for lunch, and that Ginny would be joining him- the Gryffindors had awoken in Harry’s bed, and Draco and Pansy had awoken in Draco’s. The Heads moved to the Gryffindor tower to meet up with the Prefects from their house; moving past the Fat Lady and into the lion’s den.

Upon entering, the people present in the common room looked surprised at their arrival, but greeted them pleasantly enough.

“Holy shite!” Seamus said with a grin, “You found a way to lose those two, did ya?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, and said, “Oh shut up, Sea. Are you ready for Hogsmeade?” She moved to sit near the Irishman on the couch, and Harry moved to sit in an armchair, just as the Patils and Lavender made it down the stairs; the latter looking a bit tired as she moved to sit on the arm of Harry’s chair.

“Good morning, Harry. It’s nice to see you here,” Lavender said as she settled.

“Yes,” Parvati began as she flopped down on the other side of Seamus. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Come to ignore us? Or have you come to yell at us some more?” Padma asked him, the witch holding a snarky expression as she sat on the arm of the couch near her sister. 

“No,” Harry said with a sigh, “We’ve come to see that you’re all ready for Hogsmeade, and that you-” he looked to Lavender, “- and Dean have checked all of the forms you need to.” Lavender nodded, and yawned with a stretch.

“Sure have. Did the Slytherin Prefects get to theirs?”

Dean and Seamus snorted, the twins giggled behind their hands, and Harry rolled his eyes just as the Head Girl sighed,

“Yes. Days ago.” The others in the room, even Harry, gave Hermione an odd look, before she continued, “It’s true we’ve been spending a lot of time with them, but we didn’t say that you couldn’t join us. I agree with Harry that we should stop all of this… segregation. It makes life so much easier! I don’t have to worry about Draco being a cunt, and I don’t have to fight the urge to punch either of them in the face. Which suits me because I’m sure McGonagall is still peeved about the Quidditch match.”

“Whatever you say, ‘Mione,” Seamus said with a sigh. “If the two of you can get over that shite, anyone can… Let’s get to breakfast. If I don’t eat soon, I might start punching people in the face.”

“Agreed,” Dean replied with a nod, though he still didn’t look that gung ho about it. “Will your- new “mates” be joining us at the table again today?” 

“Yes. And don’t you mean our new mates?” Harry tried. Even Hermione raised a brow at the Head Boy, who continued, “Come on. Give them another chance.” Harry knew he was preaching to the choir, and he knew damn well that it was going to take some time for the Gryffindors to be friendly. But he would take indifferent civility over hate crimes any day.

“Are we talking about Draco and Pansy?” Neville asked as he made his way down the stairs with a yawn.

“Yes,” the twins chorused, their four, dark identical brows rising somehow higher as they turned to look at the tall, strapping young lad behind them.

“Yeah…” Neville began as he slumped through the common room toward the portrait, stretching before saying, “They’re not so bad when they’re not scowling all of the time. They really are more approachable that way.”

Harry gave his other classmates a look, and pointed to each of them in turn.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll think about it,” Lavender said as she stood, the rest of them following suit as they made it down to breakfast.

()()(*)()()

No conversation about comradery with the Gryffindors had been had between the Slytherins and their Prefects, so don’t ask.

(Teenagers From Mars)  
Teenagers from Mars  
And we don't care  
Teenagers from Mars  
And we don't care  
Teenagers from Mars  
And we don't care


	28. Ratfink

The walk to Hogsmeade had been like walking through the halls, except that there were no teachers around to keep the animals at bay.

Hermione, who took responsibility seriously, was running around after first and second years who’d tried to sneak out; taking points and names as she sent them back to the school. Harry had to stop a duel, and Hannah had to take points from a couple of third year Hufflepuffs who’d tried to sneak off into the Forest to snog. The professors would be joining them shortly; the staff having some kind of meeting before a few of them were scheduled to help the Heads and Prefects, which they had needed almost immediately.

The sixth and seventh years were the least… combative, even though the Slytherins were still keeping to themselves as they walked in a group all to themselves. Though Greg had given them both pleasant greetings that morning at breakfast, he still walked with Blaise and Theo.

By the time the horde had made it to Hogsmeade it was ten a.m., and the four misfits decided that they would spend the first two hours together, going into every shop to gander at wares, as well as keeping an eye on the rambunctious students.

“I think it’s the fact that everything is open again, and there aren’t any Dark Wizards lurking about,” Hermione said as they walked into Gladrags.

“I resent that statement,” Draco leaned in and whispered in her ear, and she tried to not laugh at him as she walked away towards the dresses. Pansy followed her, and Draco and Harry decided to shop for their robes together as well, though Draco didn’t need anymore. He liked the fact that he and Harry were allowed to do something in public together, all of them, really. 

Draco was also up to the challenge of helping The Man Who Lived in One Set of Robes pick something out that brought out his handsome features better than the last dress robes he’d picked for himself. He was his boyfriend now, even if that hadn’t been agreed upon, so Draco could dress him.

They made it through Dervish and Banges, where Pansy stared at magical flutes for twenty minutes, and then they’d made it to Scrivenshaft’s for Hermione to pick up a box of quills she’d ordered, claiming she planned on writing every inch of every essay assigned, if not more. They stopped in to see Aberforth at Hog’s Head, as well as to grab a hot butterbeer, and before too long it was time for them to part ways. 

“It’s almost noon. We should head over to the Broomsticks,” Harry said, looking down at Fabian’s watch. The Gryffindors turned to the Slytherins, and the four parted ways with goodbyes and plans to see each other after their lunch, and as the Slytherins turned to walk away, Ron and Ginny apparated at the end of the street; the telling red hair catching all of their eyes in the same instant.

Draco and Pansy continued to walk down the street, and both gave the Weasleys nods of acknowledgement as they passed; the Weasleys returning the nods, though they lacked all signs of pleasantry. 

“Hi Gin! Hi Ron!” Hermione greeted their friends as they drew near, moving to hug them in turn. 

“Hey, ‘Mione. Heya Harry,” Ron replied, and returned Hermione’s hug with a tight grip. She hadn’t heard much of him over the past few months, let alone seen him, but he was looking well with all things considered. He had definitely been keeping up on a fitness program of sorts. 

“Hey, you guys,” Ginny said, and Harry made sure to give her an especially tight hug. Even if things weren’t working out between them, he was glad to see her. She looked tired, skinny and pale, but she smiled happily at them both.

“I’m so happy to see you both,” Harry said, leaning over to give Ron a hug, which the red head returned. 

“I wish we could see more of each other. It’s been a long time. Work has been hectic!” Ron said, throwing his arm over Hermione’s shoulder and leading the group towards the Broomsticks. “I definitely needed to break away and come see you. Thanks for inviting us, Harry.”

“Anytime,” the raven-haired wizard said with a smile.

“Were- you two talking to Malfoy and Parkinson just now?” Ginny asked, taking Harry’s arm as they walked. The raven-haired man decided now was the time to tell his friends about his new “friends”; stating simply, 

“Yeah. They apologized for being arseholes, and stopped acting like shites, so we decided to give them another chance.”

“Which we don’t regret-” Hermione threw in as the Weasleys’ mouths and eyes opened wide in shock, “-because school has been so much better knowing that I don’t have to worry about those two being cheeky, irritating shites. It’s already bad enough without having you-“Hermione bumped her shoulder into Ginny’s “- here with me. I’ve been worried sick about you. How has Tinworth been treating you?”

The Head Boy and Girl were happy that Hermione’s changing of the subject stuck as they made their way into Rosemerta’s establishment, if only to be deafened when the higher-year Gryffindor’s noticed the Weasleys’ entrance, and they all broke into to screams and yells of merriment. 

Lunch was a rush of conversations and excitement, and Hermione and Harry had been given no more time alone with the Weasleys; parts of them were happy for that, considering the conversations that could have come up if they had been left alone. It was already bad enough when Seamus yelled,

“Did you hear about Malfoy knocking Harry’s lights out on the pitch?”

The Weasleys’ eyes had grown wide, and Ron asked loudly,

“I thought that was more rumors in the mill, considering no one ever owled me to let me know,” Ron gave Harry a pointed look and the Head Boy put his hands up in defense. “Why didn’t you kill him, the ungrateful cunt? I told you we shouldn’t have told them to let him go. I thought you said they’d stopped acting like shites?”

“I deserved it,” Harry quickly jumped in. “I said “Fuck your mum”, and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“No shite, Harry!” Ron exclaimed, though he started to grin. “If you talked about Molly like that, I’d tell her so she could come down here and kill you herself! Why didn’t McG kill you two for fighting?”

“She might have, but instead she took our Quidditch privileges away.”

“Harry, I swear. You’re the luckiest, un-killable bastard ever… Well, aside from Neville, of course. Who’s captain of the team now?”

Luckily the conversation switched to Dean’s new Captain status, and all other conversations about Draco and Pansy were left alone.

()()(*)()()

“Are you jealous?” Draco asked Pansy once they were comfortably tucked into a booth at Madam Puddifoot’s for their “Lunch of Solitude”.

“Of course not,” Pansy answered her blonde boyfriend, keeping her eyes to the menu she knew inside and out, weighing her options on food and whether or not she was lying to Draco. “Are you?”

“Of course not,” Draco said, and the witch had yet another thing to weigh… “I just- I know that the gingers had their hearts first, is all.”

“You’re worried about their hearts?” Pansy asked, wondering if her heart was beating quickly because Draco was obviously worried about the interaction between their lovers and their exes, or if it was because she realized that Draco loved their lovers. 

Sure, things were still not official, but that didn’t mean that things weren’t serious. Pansy had admitted that she fancied them, and she had to admit that she more than fancied waking up next to them, and harassing them, and spending time with them like they had been, but she was still unsure on whether or not she could love them. She loved Draco, no doubt… But that had started before either of them could remember; when they were still in swaddling clothes and drooled instead of spoke!

“I don’t know, Pans. It’s odd… I didn’t have a problem with it at all until just now…”

The two Slytherins had watched the four Gryffindors’ public show of affection; of how Ron had picked their Hermione up for a werewolf hug, and how their Harry had lingered in his hug to Ginny, before Ron had set their Hermione down and planted a kiss on their Hermione’s head, before wrapping his arm around her. Ginny had taken their Harry’s arm in hers.

“It’s not a big deal,” Pansy said, blocking out the images and giving a shrug before saying, “I want crab cakes. They’re in season.”

()()(*)()()

When it came time for Ron and Ginny to leave, Hermione and Harry walked with the two towards the end of the road where they planned to dissaparate.

“You have to owl me more,” Hermione said to Ginny, giving the girl a tight squeeze. She really had missed the witch, but she knew that the Weasleys were going through the motions of the stages of loss, and she wasn’t going to push it. Maybe, now, after their lunch, the younger witch would open up to Hermione.

“I will,” Ginny said. “If you promise not to get bored reading about the house work I’m doing with Fleur, and the time I get to spend with George at the shop.”

“I’d love to hear about it,” Hermione said.

“You two be safe while hanging out with the Slytherins, alright?” Ron said, giving them both hugs goodbye. “If you have any problems, I wouldn’t mind going round two with Malfoy.”

“It’s not considered a round when you’re under an Invisibility Cloak, Ron,” Hermione said with a frown. She had to smile at the tall ginger, though, for being so ginger, and he replied,

“Doesn’t matter. He’s an arsehole, if I ever met one. You two keep an eye out around them. Do you have your Sneekascope?”

“Oh, jog on, Ron. We’re alright,” Harry said with a laugh. Ron seemed to accept that they were, indeed, alright.

The four Gryffindors waved goodbye, and the Weasleys departed, leaving their friends on the mission to find their Slytherins.

(Ratfink)  
Rat fink, R-A-T-T-F-I-N-K  
Fink, rat fink, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah  
Rat fink, yeah, yeah, yeah


	29. Halloween I

A week passed, and Halloween- a day for mischief, trickery, and mayhem- arrived in full swing.

Literally.

Pansy was once again stripped, strapped, and then suspended from the ceiling; her toes three or four inches from the ground. The only difference from last time was that Draco was in the same exact position as his green tie girl, and they each had a ball gag in their mouths, which both seemed none too happy about as they glared down at the two Gryffindors who sat, naked, on the edge of Harry’s bed; staring up at the two Slytherins who’d been so silly as to open their mouths… Again…

The morning before, McGonagall had sent an owl stating that the two men were not to report for detention that Friday night, and the four spent their time drinking and smoking by the open window of Harry’s bedroom, the four having called a pause on their sexual activities for the night. At one point, Pansy, with her loud mouth, had mentioned that, “Draco was jealous of the gingers last weekend”, and that had given Harry Potter, The Man Who Lived to Be Mischievous, a grand idea.

Well, that is after Draco had gotten upset at Pansy, and Pansy had to reason with him until he’d stopped frowning at her. That had been when Hermione had asked Pansy, “You weren’t jealous?”, to which the witch- green of tie- had responded,

“No. If the two of you think they’d be more fun than us, have at it. I’m sure you’d have a hard time getting the Reds in bed together... Unless they’re in to that sort of thing, in which case you can count me in.”

Both of the Gryffindors had smiled at their cheeky girlfriend, and neither said a thing to their Slytherins about the matter. Even though, within a few seconds, Harry and Hermione were able to have a nonverbal, eyes only, conversation which transpired as follows;

“Do you think they’re jealous?” Hermione asked with a lift of her brow as her eyes darted to the two green ties smoking fags at the window. 

“Oh, fuck yes!” Harry answered with a barely visible single nod of his head and a ghost of a smile.

“What should we do about it?” Hermione asked, biting her lip and furrowing her brow, taking another glance at the two by the window who were talking loudly about how Draco would never want to shag either of the youngest Weasleys.

“Especially not together!” Draco practically yelled at Pansy.

“I have an idea,” Harry “responded” to Hermione with the ghost of a smirk and short shakes of his head as he let his mischievous gaze turn back to the drunk Slytherins. 

Anywho, that “conversation” had come back to Harry almost the instant he woke up, and by the time he was able to whisper his idea to the barely awake Hermione- while the other two still slept- the brilliant witch had a grin on her face so wide Harry thought she would start squealing.

“We don’t believe that the two of you aren’t jealous,” Harry started as he took a good morning drink from the bottle of booze by the bed, and lit a cigarette with the end of his wand, which he had just used to detain his newly awoken “victims”.

The Slytherins really did look pissed off, and Hermione found herself snickering like Pansy as the green tie witch glared at her, her lips wrapped around the red ball that was keeping her from speaking. Hermione, however, had something to say to them.

“It doesn’t matter how many lies your Slytherin traps hiss, because we know that neither of you would even give us the light of day if you hadn’t gotten attached to us. 

We-“Hermione motioned between her and the man beside her, before taking the bottle and the fag, “- have grown attached to the two of you.”

“With that having been said,” Hermione continued after she too took a good morning swig from the whiskey bottle, and a drag from the smoke, “us keeping you away from Ron and Gin was not a “reputation” thing. It’s because we care about you, and we don’t want to see you getting yelled at or what I’d like to call “Weasley’d”. So we figured it was time that we tell you both that there is no need for either of you to worry about them.”

“The only thing you two need to worry about,” Harry cut in as he stood to move to Draco, grabbing the blonde’s cock and giving it a solid squeeze and stroke, “is whether or not we’re going to let you go.”

The Slytherins shared a glance that tilted on the edge of worry and excitement. Definitely excitement, because Draco grew hard at Harry’s touch, and even harder at his vague threat.

Had Harry been talking about not releasing them from the swings, or had he meant romantically?

Or… had he meant Draco’s cock?

The two “captive” Slytherins didn’t have much time to think about Harry’s meaning to his words once the raven-haired man started jerking Draco’s prick at a speed that made the blonde throw his head back against his upstretched arms and groan into his gag. Hermione moved from the bed with her wand in hand, after setting the bottle on the side table and the fag- still smoking- in the ash tray, of course, and slowly sauntered through the haze the few steps needed to stand just before her girl.

With the Pansy hanging from the ceiling, it made to where she and Hermione were almost eye to eye; the green tie now being only an inch above Hermione as she put the handle end of her wand- as best she could with Pansy’s ankles being tied together- into the bound witch’s opening. Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling as she found that the Slytherin was already wet, and watched as Pansy’s glare faded more and more every time she pumped the wand in and out of her.

Harry noted the way the witches stared at one another; enjoying, all too much, the way that Hermione seemed to smirk at their girlfriend, and how said girlfriend looked to be melting as the seconds ticked by. Draco was hard putty in Harry’s wand hand, and though he didn’t wear his glasses at the moment, he was close enough to the blonde to see that the Slytherin before him was already giving in to him.

Though Harry had recently grown to like the submissive side to their tirades, being the dominant role brought him the greatest joy. Watching as his once arch nemesis was forced to succumb to his will was intoxicating, and he felt the familiar twist of lust in his stomach as he felt Draco’s hips jerk forward into Harry’s palm. 

Within a few minutes, Hermione- who’d begun using her left hand to tease Pansy’s clit- had the suspended witch tugging against her restrains and moaning around her ball; Harry was using his left hand to pull gently on Draco’s sack while he kept with a steady rhythm on his shaft. The blonde’s knuckles were white where he grasped the leather that bound his wrists, which led to length of chain that was attached to a hook Harry had spelled into his ceiling… say- two months ago? He’d done so for Hermione, and had put a few more in the previous week when they’d decided to “draw” Pansy by tying her to the ceiling with leather on her each individual wrist and ankle.

When Pansy began making high-pitched whines behind her gag, and Draco began to mumble into his, Harry decided that he could release Draco’s ankles so that he grabbed his thighs to wrap them around his waist, and slide himself into his “nemesis”, who made even better noises as Harry gripped his arse to keep him stable and moving against him.

Hermione, having to watch this malarkey without having her own needs met, wrapped her arm securely around Pansy’s waist, pulled her wand from the witch, and used it to release her girlfriend from all bondage; the leather gone, and the ball gag now safely back in Harry’s bedside table drawer.

Pansy attempted to stand on shaking legs, but failed, and the two women toppled to the ground where Hermione moved to lay flush over Pansy to where each woman’s mouth was able to suck, tease, tongue, and please the other’s pussy. The green tie, who had already been pushing to the edge, took only a couple of more minutes to come on Hermione’s tongue, and with her heightened senses and sensitive nerves, the Gryffindor witch rode Pansy’s face until she had to pull away from her girlfriend to cry out,

“Holy, bloody gods, Pans! I’m fucking coming!”

By the time Harry heard this, he had to sink his teeth into Draco’s trembling stomach to keep himself from crying out as well as he came in the blonde, the one remaining captive groaning into his ball gag as he pushed himself further onto Harry, releasing himself onto both men’s stomachs as they remained close. The women on the floor were a trembling ball of tangled limbs and nerves, and Harry wasted little time summoning his wand and using it to free Draco; the two men falling to the floor to lay next to their women, exhausted and panting, smelling like stale smoke, whiskey, and sex at not even nine in the morning.

“You two-” Hermione began with panting breath, “-don’t have anything to worry about.”

“You both might,” Draco replied with the hint of a smile, his breath also short, “I’m going to shove those gags up Harry’s arse and make him “wear” them to the ball.”

“Shut it,” Harry said with a grin fatigued, though happy grin.

Time passed, perhaps five to ten minutes, where the four lay in silence, their limbs locked together at they caught their breath and thought- in silence- about whatever it is that sex-crazed teenagers attending Hogwarts thought about… 

“Uh- I’ve been meaning to ask you all a question,” Harry said, breaking the silence, and causing the other three to shift and to turn and look at him, all of their faces quizzical.  
“What question is that?” Hermione asked, her breathing still heavy, and she reached over to put her hand on Harry’s bicep. His tone was somber, and she was concerned as to what could be eating at him after such a wonderful shag.

“Do you want to-“Harry stammered, unsure of how any of the others would react to what he was about to suggest,“-do you want to go with me to Godric’s Hollow tonight? During the ball?”

(Halloween I)  
This day anything goes  
Burning bodies hanging from poles  
I remember Halloween


	30. Halloween II

All it had taken for the Halloween Ball to go into full swing was for Donaghan Tremlett to play a funky bass solo before the Weird Sisters broke into “This Is the Night”.

Draco hadn’t seen the Great Hall this lively since his aunt got blown up and Harry finally killed Voldie, and the blonde had to admit that this situation suited him much better, especially since he had Pansy, Harry, and Hermione to sit and/or dance with. Yes, Luna, Neville, and the newly acquired Seamus and Dean, were sitting with them as well, but that had only been in intervals. If the four weren’t dancing together, and if Luna and Neville weren’t dancing, then Seamus and Dean were dancing together; the self-proclaimed “heterosexual life partners” doing odd muggle dance moves that Draco thought ludicrous.

Pansy also thought them ridiculous, and she openly pointed and laughed at the men as they “disco’d”. Whatever the fuck that was…

Either way, the students, faculty, and staff were now fully enjoying themselves, and it was then that Hermione- having decided that Harry’s request was well worth expulsion, considering he had not chosen to visit the graveyard since Christmas (for reasons that the green ties didn’t have an inclination to ask about)- turned to her raven-haired boyfriend and whispered,

“We should go now if you want to be back at a reasonable hour.”

What with the ball taking place, the four had decided that, if the professors were present, they could skip out just long enough to take a trip to the Potter Family memorial sites. The Slytherins had already felt that the Gryffindors had made a good show at showing them that they cared for them deeply, and it was only made more concrete at Harry’s request for them to join the Head’s on one of their epic rule breaking, possibly dangerous (Minerva was dangerous), memorable, friendship-binding adventures that the Slytherins had only ever heard about.

They had been more than ready to say yes, and were happy when Hermione said that she agreed to the importance of the mission, as long as they all did it safely- which meant “As long as we do it my way,” in Hermione- then she was willing to go too.

Harry nodded to his girlfriend, currently dressed in a purple gown, and he stood. The other three stood, Pansy and Draco knowing exactly why the Gryffindor man would rise so suddenly. The Gryffindor pair and the Slytherin pair walked from Great Hall, claiming to Luna and Neville that they were going to break up the snogging younger years known to roam the halls during such events, and the two who remained smiled and waved goodbye happily. 

Luna had a knowing glint in her eye that had always disturbed Pansy, but if the blonde woman wasn’t going to tattle, then Pansy didn’t have to take her over her knee, so to speak.  


The four moved into the corridor, past the groups of students that lingered there, past the ones that lingered on the stairs, and even past the students who lounged on the grounds near the castle; all the while acting as if the four of them walking out of the school and across the grounds was totally natural that time of night. Not many paid them mind, considering their status and it being almost a month since the four of them decided to make their friendship public; so that all worked out rather well.

By the time they’d made it to Hogsmeade, Pansy had had to transfigure her bright orange heels into flats, Hermione having done the same with her own black ones, and both men had removed their cloaks to give them to the women; claiming that they were still warm in the cool autumn air. Both women were happy with the gesture- both of them feeling nippy in their strapless ensembles- though they had to hold onto them tightly as Harry and Hermione took Pansy and Draco by the hand, and dissaparated them to Godric’s Hollow. 

Draco and Pansy had only ever heard of Godric’s Hollow, and knew of its history. Neither Slytherin found any reason to leave Wiltshire and go in search of the home of Godric Gryffindor, so they looked around in the darkness, out of curiosity from being somewhere new, as they landed in a dark corner of a graveyard.

They could hear the sound of leaves loudly skittering across the ground as the wind whipped; the screams and laughter of happy children could be heard in the distance, beyond the far side of the headstones towards the lights of the village: the trees danced in the wind, and the leaves that were left allowed sporadic flashes of moonlight down onto the foreboding grounds; the greying stone sentinels marked the departed, and at one of them Harry pointed to and said,

“They’re over there.”

Grabbing Hermione’s hand, Harry set off at a slow pace towards the direction in which he just pointed, and Draco took Pansy’s and followed the Gryffindors through the maze of grave stones, coming to stop before a marble head stone, which both Slytherins stared at in silence as they read, noting the names, and the date that marked the seventeen year anniversary- on that day- of James and Lily Potter’s deaths.

“The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death,” Draco read the epitaph aloud, and those were the only words that were spoken for some time. Even as Hermione conjured a bouquet of dark red roses, she did so in a whisper, and she moved to set the flowers on the grave.

Eventually, Harry took Hermione by the hand, who took Pansy’s, who took Draco’s, and the four moved in single file through the graveyard and toward the rickety gate that led to the cobbles, where there were many oddly dressed children who were running around with masks and pails full of candy, and Draco and Pansy shared a look of confusion (wherein they missed the statue that Harry did not stop to look at) as they moved down the semi-busy street, then turned down a darker, quieter one, and all the way to the end, where an old house lay in shambles.

For a moment, Draco wondered why they were at that house, and why said house hadn’t been torn down… until it clicked. The blonde looked to Pansy, who looked up at him in confusion, and he leaned over and whispered to her exactly what it was they were looking at. Pansy’s eyes widened, and she turned back to look at Harry’s old house.

“Wow…” the raven-haired witch said in a whisper as she allowed what Draco told her to sink in. She’d never thought about what had happened to the Potters’ house, and part of her wished she’d never seen it. She turned to look over, past Hermione, at Harry, whose eyes hadn’t left the house since they arrived.

“We should visit your parents, Draco...” Harry said to the blonde after their long, silent moment of staring at the destroyed house. The blonde bit his lower lip in thought, and gave a sigh. Hermione turned to him and said,

“We’ll go with you if you want us to. We can request the visitor paperwork for all of us.” 

Hermione looked up at Draco with a smile. Draco recalled their last adventure to the astronomy tower, and how the four had played with the idea of going to see Narcissa, and then he remembered the first time they’d all been up there…

“Should we visit yours while we’re at it?”

Though Draco wanted to be upset at himself for causing the woman beside him to look somehow sadder with his choice of words, he didn’t regret saying it once she answered with a sad smile,

“Sure. Let’s do that, too.”

“We’re not going to see my parents,” Pansy said, killing the moment as usual. “They’re habitual fence-sitters.”

()()()()()

The group made it back to Hogwarts not even two hours after they’d left, the party still in full swing. 

Seamus and Dean were slow dancing- even though the song that was being played had a very fast tempo- the two obviously having had too much to drink. There was a loud group of Hufflepuffs playing cards at a table in the corner. Luna was spinning in circles around Neville, who just stood there looking rather happy and at least buzzed. A large group of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws were dancing wildly in what Harry said looked like a “mosh pit” near the front of the stage. 

McGonagall and Trelawney were quite drunk themselves, and were holding onto each other’s forearms tightly while having what looked to be a very serious conversation. Hagrid was asleep in chair by the door, while Slughorn- also quite drunk- prattled on about something boring enough to knock the half-giant out. The Slytherins were all standing in a corner, sipping brandy and smoking cigars, talking about taxes and the commonwealth; Flitwick was dancing vigorously with Sinistra on the Professor’s table (his face would otherwise be too close to her nether region for anybody’s comfort); Sprout was passing Filch what looked to be a cigarette, but who was to say what it was exactly?

After taking in the debacle that they’d planned, and also added in the fact that they’d had an emotionally trying day, the four turned around, in unison, and walked up the steps towards the Head’s dorm; all agreeing, without words, that they were calling it a night.

(Halloween II)  
Brown leafed vertigo  
Where skeletal life is known  
I remember Halloween


	31. Mommy, Can I Go Out and Kill Tonight?

…Harry was on his knees behind Hermione, moving in and out of her, using his grip on her curly, brown locks of hair to hold the woman’s mouth on Pansy’s twat; the Slytherin witch, who lay on her back, tried to moan around Draco’s cock- the blonde kneeling over Pansy to pump himself into her mouth- as Harry used his free hand to dip a finger into Hermione’s arse…

When they grew tired of that… 

… The four lay on their sides on Draco’s bed; the two women pressed, excusably, awkwardly together by their men while Draco made smooth, languid strokes into Hermione from behind, and Harry fucked Pansy with harder, rough ones. The women’s tongues battled for dominance, as did their hands as they used their fingers to play with each other’s clits…

When they grew tired of that…

… Pansy, who was on her knees, with her hands tied behind her back, flinched every time either of the other three smacked her arse. Draco had slapped her tits; Harry liked the way she tensed against her restraints when he gave her twat a quick, slightly hard, tap: Hermione took much pleasure in slapping the woman’s mouth, whose tongue had been, once again, stuck to the roof of her mouth. The Slytherin had been talking too much again...

And, when they grew tired of that…

… Hermione sat on Harry’s face, the raven-haired man’s head on a pillow, and his cock in Pansy’s pussy; Draco’s cock in Pany’s arse as the raven-haired witch leaned forward against Hermione’s back, and reached around the brunette woman to play with her tits, all the while Harry’s fingers were lost in Hermione’s gash, and Draco’s were twisting Pansy’s nipples…

Without me even having to mention it, November was promising bigger, better things, and as the middle of the month came- and threatened to pass- our four protagonists were continuing to deal with their many problems.

Aside from the crew working on Pansy’ big mouth, Harry’s parents and his new need to control things, as well as Hermione’s fear of being held against her will, Azkaban had sent the four Visitor’s Applications to fill out to go see Narcissa (Draco would be visiting Lucius alone). The four filled out their information with haste and sent the applications back, but that had been just after receiving an owl from St. Mungo’s stating that they were all, also, allowed to make a visit to see the Granger’s whenever they found the time. It also stated that their status was starting to become worrisome, and if they didn’t figure out the problem soon, the couple would likely never recover…

Hermione had known that she was allowed, but she had owled the Head Healer to be sure that Harry, Draco, and Pansy were allowed as well. She had also known that she shouldn’t have been down-trodden with the news that no progress had been made, because they would have told her otherwise. She’d tried not to think about it, but she would stare at the owls that came in during post, and hope and pray that one was for her; holding good news, and the hope of new beginnings for her and her family.

But, even with the “worrisome” news, Hermione was ready to visit them, and she had been spending extra time researching the theories behind the spell she used, and was coming up with ideas on how to reverse it when she saw them again. When she’d cast the memory charm, she’d added parts to it that no one seemed able to reverse; she had been going for safety, not pragmatisms. She would have stopped at nothing to save her parents, and that was what she had done. Now, with the mental and emotional support she had in Harry, Draco, and Pansy, she hoped that she’d be able to discover an answer in any of the books in the Forbidden section. 

So, on a Friday night, she and Pansy had set off to the library- the Invisibility cloak in Hermione’s enlarged pocket- while their men left for detention with Hagrid; the women leaving them with words such as, “Don’t have too much fun”, and, “Remember to use the lubing charm on your dick, not your hand. It works loads better.”

“Don’t you think that we should wait until Pince is gone?” Pansy asked Hermione as the two sat “reading” at a table far from the librarian’s desk, though it was still in eyesight. 

The red tie smiled at her worried looking girlfriend, and said, “No! I’ve done this plenty of times. I just bring down a bookcase over there-“ Hermione pointed toward a far corner of the library, though discreetly, “- and when she leaves to blame it on some firsties, I sneak in.”

The look on Pansy’s face was priceless as the Slytherin’s look of disbelief turned into a sly grin, and she folded her arms under her breasts before saying,

“Sometimes I forget how bad you are. Hermione Granger? Disrespecting literature?!” 

“Yeah. I’m pretty bad. Want to spank me?” Hermione asked her girlfriend with a grin.

Pansy did her best, but only managed to get the side of the witch’s arse where she sat in her chair, and decided she’d try again later, when they were alone.

“So, when do we do this?” Pansy asked as she eyed the working Madam Pince.

“Now,” Hermione whispered as she looked to the chosen bookcase, and moved her wand, under the table, to bring the two meter high piece of furniture toppling onto its face.

The noise was loud, very loud, considering it was already nine and the younger years were in bed. Everyone jumped, besides Hermione- Pansy doing so herself, even though she knew it was coming- and Madam Pince began to swear in a hushed tone as she made her way to the wreckage. That was when Hermione grabbed Pansy by the hand and pulled her behind a bookshelf, only for the brunette to bring the Cloak and cover them. 

In seconds flat, they were in the Restricted Section, the door closed and locked behind them, and they moved off into the stacks while Pince remained none-the-wiser. 

()()(*)()()

It was one in the morning, and Harry and Draco had just finished in the greenhouses. 

And I don’t mean in each other, sinners.

Hagrid had gone to see Grawp for the weekend, and left just after lunch, leaving the two students in the hands of Sprout; forced to sweep the floors, clean the glass, and weed the plants by hand. Draco had been livid the entire five hours he’d spent sweeping the floor (which could have been done much, much faster), leaving Harry to clean the windows and pick the weeds by himself.

“If I were Hermione, I’m sure I could do this without my wand, and Sprout wouldn’t notice,” Harry said absently, to Draco, who leaned against the glass Harry had just scrubbed with a section of the Prophet; the blonde smoking a cigarette and scowling at the non-flying broom in his left hand. 

The two leaned over a tad as they peered out the open door and looked towards their Herbology professor. The woman had resorted to sitting on a chair some meters from the door, at the end of the long hall that connected the greenhouses, smoking something that Harry thought questionable and reading a book; the woman having confiscated their wands for the time being. Neither had liked that part of their detention at all…

But Sprout hadn’t paid them much mind, and the two had been allowed to talk the entire time. If Draco would have been in a better mood, though, they might have actually enjoyed their detention.

“There’s no one like Hermione, but Hermione,” Draco said as he rested back into his former position and took a drag from his smoke. 

“I’m glad you figured that out,” Harry said, scrubbing Rita Skeeter’s face into the glass, “and without a moment to spare. Either way,” the dark-haired man leaned over a bit to kiss the annoyed blond on the cheek, “we’re more than happy that you did.”

Draco thought back onto all of the times that the woman he now cared for, very deeply, would beat him at things he suspected she’d struggle in doing. Instead of her magic being weak and laughable, at best, the witch was stronger than him, any of them, by far, and he couldn’t help but let that remind him of the fact that he’d been such a pile of dragon shite. He’d told her that she’d deserved better than how he had treated her, and he was, now and then, contented in knowing that that was behind them- even if he felt guilt from time to time- and that he could treat her with respect…

Unless she was tied up, and then it all became this oxymoron not many understood! (“Respectful Disrespect”)

Anyway! 

Harry was perceived, by Draco, in a very similar light to Hermione’s. The man he once thought courageous due to stupidity was actually courageous, selfless, kind, and an all-around forgiving mother fucker. He’d even given Voldemort a final chance to change, even though everyone knows that snake-faced psychopath would have never done so. Either way, Harry had deserved better too, and Draco was doubly glad for the chance to get to know him now that he could. 

He was finding that it was difficult to get enough of them- any of the three, because Pansy was a given- and the fact that they were going to ask Minerva if the four could visit his mother, he was starting to wonder what the strange feeling in his chest was when the four were together; laying in a comfortable silence, their arms and legs tangled, while Hermione read them their Potions text.

When Draco looked back to Harry, who had stopped scrubbing to stare at him, he realized he must have had an odd look on his face because green eyes shown bright with concern. The blonde attempted to take a drag from his fag, but Harry knocked it, and the broom, out of his hands with quick slaps- which caused the blonde to scoff- but not for too long as the Gryffindor found that then was the time to press his lips to the Slytherin’s. 

All thoughts of annoyance were gone from Draco’s mind; what was left was that horrible swelling in his chest that grew as Harry pushed Draco back against the glass and put his hands on his hips as he pulled him close. Draco put his hands into Harry’s hair as his mouth opened to allow the Gryffindor’s tongue, and he had to admit that he couldn’t tell who’s heart was beating faster, harder, in that moment. With their chests pressed together, and with the emotions that Draco had been dealing with just moments ago, he wondered if he’d been so obvious that Harry was having his own reaction. 

The look of concern in his green eyes had been so telling; it almost mirrored Draco’s, as if Harry too had been sucked back into that dark hole that was their past.   
But none of that past bullshit mattered once Harry moved his lips from Draco’s to the blonde’s ear, and whispered,

“I know what you’re doing. And you need to stop thinking about that shite.” Harry began to put light kisses on the skin below Draco’s ear, and the Slytherin found himself moaning as hot tingles shot over his skin. Finally, after a few love bites, Harry put his lips to Draco’s earlobe, and said, “I really am happy you’re here with me.”

()()()()()

As the two left the yawning Professor Sprout to finish her reading, the two made across the grounds towards the school, and waited until they were out of eye shot of the old witch before Harry reached over and took Draco’s hand. The blonde gave a smile and turned to look at Harry, who looked back at him with a winning grin, as they made their way to the courtyard.

And it was then, from the shadows behind the archway, pillars, and statues that figures began to appear, shrouded in the darkness of the clouds that threatened rain, and Harry knew that they were being surrounded, and it took him 1.2 seconds to have his wand out and at the ready; but his hand clasped Draco’s tighter as the two moved to stand back to back.

First, he made out the tall form of Blaise from their right, then Theo from behind them. From the shadows on the stairs by the entrance, Daphne and Astoria stepped forward. Millicent walked from out from behind a statue, and Tracey came into sight from their left; all with wands drawn, and sneers on their faces.

“It was nice seeing you two love birds having such a touching moment in the greenhouse,” Blaise said with sarcastic sap.

“Yes. You should really try being more discreet,” Astoria snickered at her boyfriend’s taunt, “But, it will make all of this that much “sweeter”.”

(Mommy, Can I Got Out and Kill Tonight?)  
Rip the veins from human necks  
Until they're wet with life  
Razor-blades love teenage flesh  
An epidermoty  
I'll bring back a souvenir  
For it's my mommy's dream  
Can I go out and kill tonight, kill tonight


	32. 20 Eyes

“What about this one?” Pansy asked Hermione, passing her yet another book from the shelf. 

The curly-haired witch, who was sitting on a chair- next to a stack of books- near the ladder Pansy stood on, grabbed the book from the green tie and glanced at its cover (“Lisserus’ Dark Hexes, Jinxes, and Darker Curses”). She gave it back with a sigh and a shake of her head, and took a sip from her cocoa canteen. It had gotten cold, very cold, the past few days, and the castle’s stone was beginning to hold the chill in so well that the constantly lit fireplaces hardly did a thing for the temperatures.

“What about this one?” Pansy asked her girl, passing her yet another book, which the red tie took and read aloud,

“Living to Dead, and Back Again by Hoban Hobbleknee…” Hermione then looked up to her woman. “Really? Are you reading these before you pass them to me?” Pansy frowned, slumped against the ladder that ran on a track on the bookshelves that lined the back wall of the library, and she pouted as she answered,

“No. I’m sorry, ‘Mione. I’m feeling- odd… Tired, perhaps? Books make me tired...” Pansy then grabbed her wand and cast a spell to check the time.

Hermione noted that it was fifteen to one, and that detention was coming to an end for their men.

“Their men”… 

The Gryffindor had to smile at the thought, because she was still finding it so bizarre how things seemed manageable, doable, possible!, when she was with her three lovers. The fact that not one of them seemed to label it didn’t bother Hermione, because she knew what is was. Even if the others wanted to play daft, their emotional connection wasn’t slipping past the Gryffindor witch; nor was she going to lie about her feelings like the rest of them. They were together, so fuck all that dumb shit.

She still wasn’t going to confront them about it though. ‘They’d all have a seizure and die,’ Hermione thought with an amused scoff at her emotionally handicapped lovers. Even Harry, with his usually caring nature, hadn’t said a thing about it. Perhaps that was his way of showing the Slytherins he cared a lot; knowing that their relationship status would panic the shifty snakes that hadn’t once mentioned anything to them about labels.

“Love. I promise I’ll wake up early with you, and we can sneak back in here after we’ve had some rest,” Pansy said as she continued to pout at Hermione with an odd frown.

The Gryffindor gave her girl a questioning look. She hated it when Pansy pouted at her, because she loved it. It made it hard to resist whatever it was that she requested when she pouted. At the moment, she requested bedtime, but the hidden meaning behind Pansy’s almost anxious look gave Hermione pause. That is, until she yawned. She didn’t want to give up on her search for answers, but she knew she wasn’t going to get much done with her eyes being as blurry as they were. They’d had a very long night the night before, coupled with an early morning…

Hermione was tired, and she gave in with a nod as she said,

“Ok. Let’s go.” Pansy seemed to cheer a bit at Hermione’s words and she made her way down the ladder, “But I’m holding you to that promise. First thing in the morning, ok?” Pansy gave a laugh before leaning over to kiss Hermione on the top of the head, before grabbing the red ties hands and pulling her to her feet. 

“I’m afraid to tell you no, so first thing in the morning it is. I feel so weird… I can’t explain it, but we should go find them.” Pansy replied, her face pulling a sour expression. Hermione tilted her head at her woman, and leaned down to kiss her on her lips. 

“You’ve been using the contraceptive charms, right?” The Gryffindor asked.

“Fuck! Yes, I have! I’ve even been casting one on you, too!” Pansy yelled with wide eyes, but Hermione didn’t care about her volume with the empty, locked library. 

“Good looking out. We’ve been using them on each other then,” Hermione smiled, then said, “But if that’s not what’s wrong, then what is? Should we find the boys and floo to the kitchens?” Pansy shook her head at her girlfriend, trying in desperation to calm the beating of her heart. The green tie hadn’t had anxiety since the men had their fist fight, and before that it had been when she tried to sell Harry out. But this was a calm situation; she was with her woman, not surrounded by hate and glares. 

So what was wrong?

“Let’s just go get the guys,” Pansy finally replied. 

Hermione nodded lightly, with concern, at Pansy’s, before she replaced Hoban’s book with a levitation spell, and the two women made out of the abandoned library under the cloak; Hermione shrinking the two tomes she found relevant and putting them in her pocket with the intent to return them as soon as possible. 

They moved into the hallway, and Pansy asked, “Do you want to meet them? I feel like we should go get them.”

Hermione looked to her worried looking girlfriend, nodded, and the two women made their way down the stairs towards the grand entrance. As they reached the bottom of the grand staircase, they turned to look out the open, massive double doors, where they saw that a group of students were standing in a circle, some with their backs to them. Pansy knew, almost immediately, who the students were from standing alongside them for so many years.

“It’s the Slytherins!” Pansy said in a loud gasp, her voice stricken with fear, to her Gryffindor witch as she pulled her lover’s hands, and made for the door. 

Hermione could see that their men still stood, backs together, wands pointed outwards, and she took in a loud breath before she yelled, 

“Harry! Draco!”

The group of students in the courtyard turned to look at the witches on the stairs in surprise, and they drew their wands. But none of this did any of them any good, because Hermione had already drawn her wand, and began to yell the first spells that came to her head; sending a body binding curse at Daphne, and a Jelly Legs at Millicent, but watched in half-horror as Draco sent a Cruciatus at Blaise- who hit the ground with a scream of pain; but the curse was only left on him a few seconds- and Harry sent a Sectumsempra at Theo; the man hitting the ground with a scream of his own as the blood began to fall from the gashes Harry had opened.

Pansy let her eyes dart to Tracey, a girl who had once been her friend, and she sent the alarmed looking woman a Finger Removing jinx to her wand hand; the woman dropping her wand and staring down at her stubs in horror before she, too, began screaming. ‘Pomphrey can reverse it,’ Pansy thought with a scowl.

The last person standing was Astoria- the witch glancing around her quickly as all of her classmates fell like flies- and looked back up in just enough to time to watch as Hermione’s fist came in contact with her cheek; the blow laying the girl flat on her back. Pansy couldn’t help the grin that graced her face at being able to witness one of the infamous “Right hooks from Granger”, before she turned her eyes to Harry and watched as he reversed the curse on Theo; the man’s blood returning to his veins as he trembled, pale and weak.

“Bind them,” Draco said loudly as he did took his own command and bound Blaise, and then moved his wand to silence Tracey, and bind her as well. Hermione and Pansy made quick work of Astoria, who was coming to, and Pansy handled Daphne. When Harry had Theo and Millicent bound, Hermione moved the six confrontational Slytherins to lie side by side, before she said,

“You- all- fucked- up.”

Six sets of eyes stared up at them as the four stood shoulder to shoulder; frowning and glaring down at the six on whom the tables had turned. 

“Quite,” Pansy said with a shake of her head; her blood was boiling as she felt hate rise in her for the people who were once her friends. It had looked, to her, upon arriving at the scene; that the six Slytherins were going to unfairly attack her lovers. And, by the way that Draco and Harry had used, practically two, Unforgivables, she knew her suspicions were true.

“Thank you for saving us,” Harry said as he turned to look at the witches. Both, no longer caring about the six that lay incapacitated, jumped at the chance to literally jump into the men’s arms; giving them each kisses before looking down at the shocked people on the ground.

“Should we leave them here for Filch to find?” Pansy asked, before she kicked Theo in the side of the leg with the point of her high-heeled shoe. She hoped it made him bleed.

“No,” Harry said. “We should let them go.”

“With what? A warning to back off?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” Draco replied quickly, before taking Hermione’s hand and looking down at his Housemates; saying, “We’re going to let you go, but know that this is the only time we’re going to be nice about it. If you want to challenge any of us, correctly, we’ll accept that.“

“Oh,” Harry started with a smug chuckle as he took Pansy’s hand, “I’ll accept that for sure.”

“Stay out of our way,” Hermione growled, before she waved her hand and released the “attackers” with “finites”. 

The six battered Slytherins hoisted themselves up- Theo and Blaise did so on wobbly legs; Tracey went back to holding her fingerless hand; Astoria held her blackening eye, Millicent stood looking like she had gotten off the easiest, and Daphne held onto her sister with an arm over her shoulder- before the six turned away from the four lovers and went back into the castle in shamed silence. 

“Fifty bloody points from Slytherin, by the way!” Hermione yelled at their retreating backs.

“Hermione!” Pansy and Draco whined; and their girlfriend shrugged.

“Fine,” Hermione muttered. “Forty points to Slytherin. I’m still taking ten, damn it,” the red tie witch said with a scowl. The two remaining Slytherins shrugged their acceptance of their woman’s/Head Girl’s decision.

(20 Eyes)  
When you're seeing 20 things at a time  
You just can't slow things down, baby  
When you're seeing 20 things in your mind  
Just can't slow things down


	33. Blacklight

“None of you know why Davis doesn’t have fingers and probably won’t for a week while she grows them back?”

Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Pansy shook their heads.

“None of you know why Blaise was Crucio’d so badly he soiled his pants?”

Pansy definitely held back a snicker with her teeth in her bottom lip, but there was another collective shaking of heads from the four students being questioned by their Headmistress.

“None of you know why Astoria Greengrass has been left looking like a battered wife?”

More shakes from the students’ heads.

“And… None of you know why Nott looks like a cutting board?”

Even more shakes of their heads... 

“So… If I were to ask Kingsley, being as you are now of age, to confiscate your wands and check the last spells that were used, no one would find anything suspicious?”

More shaking of heads, but the four couldn’t help but look guilty, even if just a little.

Pansy might have begun to squirm, Harry and Hermione listened to too much N.W.A., if their scowls were any indication to their abhorring authority, and Draco looked like he’d been carved out of stone. He’d hardly even blinked, let alone shown emotions…

The Headmistress gave them all stern looks, each one in turn, before she gave them all a pleasant smile and said,

“Splendid. The group claimed it was a prank gone awry, so I will have to take their word on that. But Poppy claims that the effects were so serious that the casting just had to be intentional, and would have to have been cast by a powerful witch or wizard who was familiar with such spells…” 

The four students continued to stay silent, but doing so really didn’t look all that innocent… 

“Well, no matter. It seems the four of you are now off to St. Mungo’s. I have been more than happy to accept your request in this-“McGonagall gave the Slytherins an amused lift of her brow, “- and I will allow you the floo here, in my office, to get to and from your visit. But you must be back in time for dinner and your rounds. Is that clear?”

The four nodded an affirmative this time, but with more enthusiasm. Even Draco’s marble façade had broken a tad.

Was- that a hint of relief..?

“Good,” McGonagall said with one shake of her head. “Well- off with you, then.”

The four stood quickly and made for the floo, but McGonagall decided to continue as Hermione reached out for the powder,

“My best wishes to your success today, Miss Granger. With any luck, you will no longer have any reasons to knock Irma’s bookshelves over. I already told her, at the beginning of the year, that you were allowed in. But, please, do us the favor of locking the Restricted Section when you leave next time.”

Hermione nodded with wide eyes and a slack jaw, her hand still in the jar.

“And-“McGonagall said with her stern expression back in place, “-stop punching people in the face. I don’t care if they deserve it!”

As the four guilty students disappeared, Minerva shook her head and muttered, “That’s it. I’m hiring a counselor.” 

()()()()()

“Fuck, mate…” Harry said when the four had settled on a heated bench in the courtyard of St. Mungo’s. It was snowing, and they passed around a flask of fire whiskey as they watched the flurries fall. They had to wait until the head of the Memories department was back from lunch, and the receptionist said that it would take about an hour.

“She knows everything…” Pansy said in astonishment; her jaw slack as she stared at the leafless bushes a few meters away. “Do you think she knows that I floo’ed home?”

“I’m sure she’s noticed quite a few things in the floo log, love,” Hermione said, before taking a swig from the flask Draco brought, and then passed it to Harry before returning to the book in her hand.

Hermione had been having a tad bit of anxiety for days now, and it had only been made stronger that morning when she and Pansy had woken up at seven and snuck into the library to grab a few more books. She had most definitely forgotten to lock the door behind her in her rush to get out of there before Pince opened the door at eight thirty.

“I thought that it was already established she knows everything,” Draco said with his favorite smirk. 

Draco had found the entire meeting completely amusing, and he had had to wait to step out of the fireplace at St. Mungo’s to throw an obnoxiously loud laughing fit. “Or did you lot forget about the four days we decided to ignore each other after she busted us for truancy? Fiend Club, I think?”

“We remember…” Hermione and Harry said in unison. 

Harry had been ready to be interrogated by McGonagall; it was something that happened to him all too often in his lifetime. He had not, however, been expecting to be let go. He thought he was going to have to storm out of the office in a cussing fit, yelling, “Fuck the police! This is my wand!”

“So- this is what it’s like being friends with the two of you?” Draco asked with a scoff, however, he kept his smirk. “We get to do whatever we bloody want without being punished too badly? If at all? I mean, I crucio’d Blaise!” Draco whispered that last part pretty loudly. “And McGonagall smiled at me!”

“I also got a Head position I didn’t earn,” Harry said with an amused lift of his brows at his boyfriend, taking a shot from the flask. Hermione frowned at both of the men before returning to her book.

“Oh, shut your mouth!” Pansy, of all people, said to her raven haired boyfriend. “There wouldn’t be any need for a Head’s position if you weren’t here.”

“No,” Draco said with a smirk, “I’d be Head Boy.”

Harry shook his head at the blonde, but couldn’t stifle his grin. Pansy slapped Draco on the arm, and rolled her eyes. Hermione found her green tie boyfriend’s snark only half-way amusing.

“Shut your mouth!” Hermione said to her blonde boyfriend, with a mostly playful scowl. “Besides, it’s obvious that McGonagall knows the Slytherins started it. They must have been obvious about their hand in it all, so she doesn’t care. And, since they got hurt pretty badly, she’ll probably leave it at that for their punishment. There weren’t any more points taken from Slytherin when I looked at breakfast.”

“Thank Merlin for that!” Draco began with a chuckle to his curly haired woman. He was in a good mood! “I already feel like I need to give you a good spanking for the ten you already took! If McGonagall took any more, I’d have to start in on spanking the lot from last night.”

The other three didn’t like this joke at all… 

They all turned to give the blonde very threatening glares, and the blonde man became suddenly aware of how deep they all were. Not that the four of them sitting outside of St. Mungo’s to visit the Muggle parents of their girlfriend wasn’t in deep, or anything… But his heart skipped a beat as he looked over from his end of the bench to his three, scowling lovers, and realized that the three were obviously hurt at his suggestion!

But even with the heavy “news”, he decided to turn his real feelings into a joke, and exclaimed with a dramatic gasp, “You all love me!” 

“Shut up!” Harry said with a deeper scowl, looking away from the blonde to pass the flask to Pansy. The Gryffindor man was repressing the images that came with Draco’s former words, as well as trying to keep back the words Pansy spat at the same time,

“I know I don’t say it, but you know I love you.” 

Pansy’s glare had deepened with her angry sentiment, but only because her brain was still showing her images of Draco with the other Slytherins, and she did NOT like that. 

Him being with their Gryffindors? That did not irk her in any way. When she’d been messing with him about the Weasleys a couple weeks ago, that had also been different… The blonde mentioning taking their special activities back to the bastards that tried to ambush him the night previous was pissing her off! So much so, she had to look away from him!

Hermione didn’t have anything to say to Draco, so she turned back to the book in her hands that she’d spelled to keep from getting effected by the snow. She knew Draco had been joking, and she’d found herself fighting the urge to say the same exact words Pansy had snapped at him... to both of the green ties. Well- maybe she hadn’t always loved them, but she did now, and she didn’t feel like being the one to set sail straight into that iceberg. That ship was bound to sink!

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist…” Draco said, not letting the others dampen his mood, especially now that he knew they were so attached to get… jealous. The blonde had a feeling (amongst the others) that he was going to have to suspend all three of his lovers from Harry’s ceiling very soon, and tell them that they had nothing to worry about...

()()()()()

The hours spent at St. Mungo’s had been trying, to say the least…

Nothing had come from Hermione’s studies, nor had anything seemed to change in the couple as Hermione stood in their quarters; disillusioned as she moved about them, testing only a couple of spells before deciding that she hadn’t yet figured it out, and she wasn’t going to keep using spells on them just in case they had negative effects. It had taken all of her courage to get up and try, fearful of the detrimental possibilities, only for nothing to happen at all!

She had had to eventually settle for posing as a Healer Granger- something she did every time she went to see them- to be able to get that time with them. She’d asked them questions about Australia as she always did, all while her three lovers had sat, disillusioned, in the corner of the room. 

Harry had gone with her every week over the summer, and every time they’d gone they’d done so with the hopes of witnessing the couple being healed. It had never happened, and Harry watched as Hermione had begun to give up hope. He had been worried about the lack of progress, but he knew she was keeping up with her Gryffindor courage in going to the hospital that day. 

At least until they’d gotten back to the Head’s dorm.

The red tie witch had remained silent their entire trip back, and the remaining three had given her a respectful silence. Even Pansy managed to keep her trap shut. But, the second that her feet hit the carpeted floor in the confines of her dorm, Hermione Granger broke down.

Harry entered the Head’s Dorm in time to keep her up as she tried to go to her knees as she began to cry freely. Pansy came in next, and didn’t move in time for Draco to come through, the blonde running into her back and using his quick reflexes to grab his green tie girl around the waist; the same exact way Harry had caught Hermione.

The Slytherins stayed silent as they followed the Gryffindors to Harry’s room, where The Man Who Lived picked Hermione up and moved them to lay down on the bed, and the green ties moved to lay on either side of them.

(Blacklight)  
"Help me angel evil" cried  
The children of the night  
Take this wasted mortal life  
Melt me into blacklight


	34. Descending Angel

Hermione felt the pain in her chest the entire day. However, upon leaving her parents in their state- still unaware and confused about their stay at the magical hospital- her heart and lungs swelled, and her breathing became strained until she entered the common room, where she let go.

In the comfort and safety that was her dorm- a place she had called home for so long; missed just as badly as her parents while on the run- she could weep and release the pressure of sorrow that had built to the hilt. Her sob left her at the exact moment her weak knees gave out, but the strong, stabilizing arms of Harry Potter caught her, and wrapped her into another feeling that she connected with home. He helped her to the bed, took off their shoes, and he crawled onto the bed and hugged her to his chest as she wept over the damage she had done to the ones she loved. It was something she was currently incapable of handling on an emotional level; any level, really. 

The red tie woman was aware of the bed shifting as Draco moved behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist as he laid close, and she felt, from beyond Harry, Pansy’s small, cold hand as it pushed the curls from her face and behind her ear; the tears becoming visible to the three that, she knew, loved her. The storm cloud that formed above her head had not begun to rain, because she knew her lovers were there, keeping her from going over that edge.

From time to time, over a span of fifteen or so minutes, Harry and Pansy would use their thumbs to brush away her tears. Draco did no such thing, but instead rubbed her arm in tender strokes. Hermione eventually began to calm, and the cloud disappeared, and in the silence that followed Pansy leaned over Harry to plant a kiss on the melancholy woman’s forehead. The red tie woman looked up to the two whom she faced, and she smiled lightly at Pansy, and gave Harry’s concerned expression a reassuring nod before leaning up to kiss him, and then sat up slightly to lean over Harry and do the same to Pansy. She then turned to Draco, and the somber blonde wrapped her into a hug before giving her a long kiss himself.

He knew how it felt to feel helpless, especially when one’s parents were concerned.

When the two pulled away, Hermione opened her mouth to thank them, you know, for being so kind and loving in her time of need, but her words were cut off by Harry pulling her to him where he’d moved to kneel. He put his lips back to hers in a passionate kiss that was more intense that Draco’s, and the Head Girl became taken with the thought that Pansy had started something the men intended on finishing. Her thoughts became a reality when she felt Draco’s hands move up the back of her jumper, his cold fingertips making her gasp into Harry’s lips, which caused a smirk to form on her Gryffindor lover’s face.

The man made quick work of her jumper as the green tie woman got to her knees and moved to Hermione’s left; the three making a kind of triangle as they worked on together to get their woman’s clothes off, and taking with them her sadness, her worry; forcing her to think of them instead of her battles.

With her knickers and jeans around her bent knees, and her jumper, shirt, and bra on the floor, the curly-haired witch should have felt uncomfortable being the only naked one, but, of course, she didn’t, instead she accepted the attention eagerly as the three commenced to cover her skin with kisses, caresses, and groped her arse and tits. Draco palmed her arse roughly, and bit lightly at the skin on the back of her neck; his face lost in her wild mane. Harry suckled on her ear, and he started to gently tease her clit. 

Pansy began to play with her nipple, her hand holding Hermione’s hair, pulling her head back to snog her into senselessness. 

Sort of… 

Hermione’s mind, usually plagued with thoughts, was numb with the feeling of being worked so thoroughly, so completely, and her body was the only thing she felt as Harry’s fingers found her opening, causing the woman to moan loudly into Pansy’s mouth; the witch taking her girlfriends’ noises as a signal to twist her nipple with a small amount of pain that shot to Hermione’s core. She pulled away from Pansy as she pressed her hips further onto Harry’s fingers, which only made her whimpers and moans louder in the nearly silent room.

The sounds of Hermione’s pleasure became deafening in that room, and Harry pulled away from her neck to look in her half lidded eyes as he moved his fingers at a faster speed, and he watched her heated blood flush her skin, and her mouth fall open as her head tilted back to lean against Draco’s shoulder. Pansy used the new space between her Gryffindors to move her mouth to one of Hermione’s nipples, and flicked her tongue over it as she moved to hand to take Harry’s hand’s spot, and play with the sensitive bud of flesh that made her lover grasp onto her arm so as to keep from floating off into space. 

“Fuck, yes,” the Head Girl moaned loudly, “Don’t stop, please, Harry. Don’t- stop…”

The Head Boy gave a smirk at his writhing girlfriend, and asked, “Do you want me to fuck you properly, love?”

“Yes,” Hermione strained through a cry that a quick few pumps from Harry created, all the while Draco’s left hand gripped her arse firmly, and his right hand grabbed the nipple Pansy hadn’t yet worshipped. 

“Louder, Hermione. Say you want me to fuck you,” Harry commanded with a growl, taking in the sight of Hermione coming apart on his hand. His fingers were slick, and he knew he, they, had succeeded in taking their girlfriend out of her funk. Especially when she yelled,

“Yes, Harry! Please! I want you to fuck me!” 

Instantly, the Head Boy removed his fingers, and undid his pants enough for them to fall to his bent knees, and Draco grabbed Hermione and turned her around to put her back to Harry’s chest. Draco, too, undid his trousers, and grabbed the brunette’s curly locks to take her down to her hands, and he held his cock out to set the tip on her lips. 

Happily, Hermione obliged the blonde, and took Draco into her mouth until she could go no furthers as Harry pressed the tip of his own prick into her pussy.

Both men moved in and out of her at different speeds and intervals, and Hermione felt strong waves of ecstasy at the feeling of both men inside of her, which only got stronger when Pansy smacked her arse before leaving over to whisper into her ear,

“Don’t you love it when they both fuck you?” Hermione could only mumble an affirmation as she looked to her smirking girlfriend, who then asked, “Do you want me to help them?” The red tie woman attempted a nod of her head that did not work too well in her predicament, but Pansy knew what her woman looked like when she wanted more, even if her noises were hardly distinguishable with Draco thrusting into her throat.

Even still, the Prefect witch stuck the pointer finger of her left hand into her mouth, thoroughly wet it, and then pushed it into her Head’s arsehole. The red tie witch gave a moan that sounded like she was on the verge of her release, and the three who held down the Head Girl moved faster in and out of her; Draco using both hands in her hair; Harry grabbing her hips as he pulled Hermione back onto him; Pansy making slower, swirling pumps that made her woman tremble on her knees.

Together, the three continued to talk to their witch in a way that got her off, telling her, “I can never get enough of your mouth on my cock,”, “Yeah. Keep pushing back like that… Hold your arse open for me,” and, “You sound so cute when you moan, ‘Mione. You sound even cuter when you come. Come for us.”

The sounds of all three of them talking to her pushed Hermione over the edge, and she cried out loudly as she stilled, clamped down around Harry’s cock as Draco used her now wider mouth to pump further, before both men came in her at once.

(Descending Angel)  
Descending angel  
Stand by my side  
We’ll face the night  
Descending angel


	35. Walk Among Us

On Sunday, the four spent their morning hours doing homework and studying for tests and end of term exams. 

Well, besides Hermione, who was going through the stack of books she’d snuck into the library for. She’d done so after her rounds with Harry the night before, and, also, because punk never dies. She didn’t have to sneak into the Forbidden Section, but she’d found solace in her solo adventure to the library at midnight. After the ambush, her breakdown, as well as their romp in bed, her lovers had been worried about leaving her alone, but she had insisted. Her down time had ended up being her shrinking every book she liked (which was a large number) and putting them in her pockets to read in the comfort of her dorm, with her friends and lovers.

After lunch on Sunday, which they took in the Head’s dorm, the four moved to the Prefects’ dorm for their afternoon, where they had potions homework to do. They sat in the common room by the fire, and the four together were working on one potion; a potion that finally answered Harry’s questions about Slughorn’s hemlock; Endless Sleep, a dark red potion which St. Mungo’s used to induce comas. However, they only needed a little bit.

“I wish we had Snape’s book…” Harry said absently as the four stared at the bright purple, roiling… gunk. 

“I would even take an opportunity to gander at that,” Hermione said. She was feeling flustered, and it didn’t help that the other three seemed annoyed as she was.

“Snape’s book? What?” Draco asked Harry with a lifted brow.

“I found a book that belonged to Snape when he was a student. It had all of these tricks that made brewing much easier,” Harry said.

“That’s how he won the Liquid Luck,” Hermione added in for one boyfriend to the other. “It’s also the reason you and Nott are going to be Scar Twins forever. Snape invented the Sectumsempra Curse Harry used on you, and wrote it in the book for this git to find.” Hermione pointed to Harry. During this explanation, Draco’s grey eyes had become half lidded in a scowl that he was directing at Harry, the raven haired man’s eyes doing the same behind his glasses at the blonde.

“Let’s not forget why the fuck that even happened, Dray,” Harry said. Draco lost his defensive look, and rolled his eyes, saying,

“I know, I know…”

“Either way. It doesn’t matter anymore, because he hid it in the Hidden Things room of the R of R,” Hermione said.

Draco grabbed his flask that sat beside him on the floor, and poured an ounce or two into the purple gunk in the cauldron, and said, “For Crabbe,” in a hushed voice.

“So what should we do about this?” Harry asked, glaring at the cauldron.

“Start over, of course,” Hermione said before she waved her hand to banish the botched potion, and reaching to grab the book from her girlfriends’ hands. Somehow, Pansy had remained silent, and she had also somehow managed to keep her face in a book.

Hermione liked watching Pansy study her potions text, because it was the only the time the witch seemed interested in what she was reading. For a moment, the red tie witch watched the green tie one, before said green tie looked up from her book to begin grabbing ingredients…

And that was when the knock came at the portrait.

The four in the room froze, because they knew there was only one person who could be knocking from the other side of the portrait; a Slytherin. And, since the four hadn’t left their rooms for meals since the attack, they were all stricken with a similar sense of worry. 

“The fuck is that?” Draco asked, his frown back yet again.

“It’s probably not Davis,” Harry said with a stupid smirk. Pansy giggled at him, feeling proud of the fact that she’d taken away the woman’s ability to flick her bean for a week. 

“Shove off, Harry,” Hermione said with a grin before jumping to her feet. “I’ll get it.”

“No!” Draco and Harry said loudly together. Hermione stopped md-step, and turned to look at the men with a lift of her brow, and asked,

“What?”

“Other than the obvious reasons for that attack, other than the fact that we’re “traitors”, they were really, really pissed off that we allowed you into our House dorms...” Draco said to his red tie woman.

“Yeah. I could see that,” Pansy said with a shake of her head, even if she wasn’t happy for the intrusion. She was in the middle of potions homework!

There was another knock, and the four gave each other a look before Draco moved to the door, his hand in his pocket, a grip on his wand (his real wand). He pushed the portrait open a few inches, and he peered out to see Blaise standing in wait. He looked somehow nervous, even with the scowl on his face, and Draco set his own before asking,  
“The fuck do you want?”

“Can we come in?” Blaise asked as he looked to his left, beyond Draco’s vision. He wanted to ask who “we” was, but instead he asked,

“The fuck for?”

Blaise sighed, rolled his eyes, and put his hands in his pockets, before he said, “Can we come in and-“he licked his lips in uncertainty, “-and apologize?” 

He said the last bit in a lowered voice, and Draco sized up his arsehole of a housemate’s seemingly genuine body language. He then studied his eyes, and noted them as shifty, but he also noted that the main Slytherin common room was abuzz that cold afternoon, and the blonde assumed that the man didn’t want to be overheard.

Draco pushed the door open a little, and he saw that Blaise was flanked by the group from Friday night, as well as a stone-faced Greg Goyle. The bulky man had his arms crossed over his chest, looking almost like a bouncer at some club, and he stood behind the rest as if he were there to be sure that they did as Blaise had said. Not that Draco much cared for the Slytherin’s (minus Greg) remorse; he just wanted to see if they’d actually do it.

Or see if the foursome would have to lay down a little more law.

“We have company,” Draco stated with a challenging lift of his brow at Millicent, the witch having been the one to mention that she’d been displeased by the Gryffindor’s being allowed to “come and go from our dorms”. The seven who stared at him barely flinched at his words, because they knew exactly what Draco meant, but said nothing in dispute as their Prefect stepped aside and allowed them in. 

The blonde’s lovers had watched the exchange with interest, though they couldn’t hear Blaise over the chatter from the common room, but that interest quickly changed to shock when seven more Slytherins came through the entryway. Harry and Hermione were instantly to their feet, and grabbed for their wands. Though they didn’t raise them at the Slytherins, they made sure that they were visible. Pansy stayed seated on the floor, but glared as deeply as she could muster at her Housemates as she asked,

“Come to challenge us properly? Well, aside from you, Trace.” Tracey tried to hide her glare, as well as her fingerless hand, at Pansy’s snark. 

The green tie to answer Pansy was Daphne, saying, “No. We came to apologize.”

“Oh, really? You? Apologize?” Pansy answered her long-time friend with malice. 

By long-time friend, I mean about as far back as Draco. The two women fought over anything the other had that they didn’t when they were toddlers; they bonded over the latest fashions as tweens; Daphne taught Pansy about tampons. With whom do you think Pansy stayed up with all night and practiced spells with in first year? With whom do you think Pansy giggled with, studied with, ate with, accompanied to the bathroom? With whom did she share a first, fumbling, experimental kiss with? Who do you think Pansy told first when she and Draco “went all the way” in fifth year? And guess who still hadn’t apologized for telling Vince and Greg about it?

Yeah. Daphne.

But Pansy had forgiven her for that. For this? For threatening her men?

“We’re sorry for what we did,” Daphne said with a defiant look. The others, besides Greg, nodded at them, and the four lovers all shared a few glances. All of the glances meant different things, for different reasons, and it was Harry who stopped Pansy and Hermione from saying no, by saying himself,

“Your apology is accepted.”

There was an uneasy silence where Pansy glared at Harry, wherein Draco walked from the group by the door, towards the one in the middle of the room, standing next to Harry and giving him a smile. The bespectacled man smiled back, and then said to the Slytherins by the door,

“I’m sorry for that curse, Nott.”

“It felt like I was dying,” Theo managed. For looking so tough, his words came out a little louder than a whisper.

“You were,” Harry replied simply, with a shrug.

“Thanks for not telling McGonagall about that Unforgivable,” Draco said to Blaise.

“Yeah,” the dark-skinned man started, “I’ve never been Crucio’d before, Drake.”

“I’m not apologizing for what I did,” Hermione said, the witch still not happy about forgiving the Slytherins. She was definitely on her girlfriend’s side with this, because she could tell when her woman wasn’t happy. Pansy wasn’t happy about this. Astoria continued to glare, though the black eye Hermione knew she must have had was gone, but managed a nod, as if she understood the Head Girl’s reasoning.

Which she did.

“And neither am I,” Pansy added. “We’re going to forgive, but I won’t forget this. We already told you to leave it alone, and you didn’t.”

“We’re not going to do anything else,” Blaise said. “We’ll leave you alone from now on.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Harry said before the group could make to leave. “I meant it when I said the rivalry doesn’t matter anymore. You lot are the only ones keeping you from being around the rest of us. You can make friends with people outside of your House. The others might find it odd, but probably not as much as before, now that we-” Harry motioned to his lovers, “- are over it.”

The “other” Slytherins looked at Harry Potter like he had suddenly become a werewolf, or something. They were surprised at his gesture, which Harry thought they really shouldn’t have been. The way he saw it he’d forgiven Draco, and Draco used to be Harry’s “Undesirable Number One”. The Slytherins weren’t even Number Three-Hundred Ninety Four.

“We’ll think about it,” Millicent finally spoke up, the witch having stood near the back beside Greg, her glare holding strong until that point. She looked somewhat friendly as she nodded at the four lovers, and turned to walk from the portrait, the others following her.

When the portrait swung closed, Pansy turned to Harry and said,

“The fuck is wrong with you? You know at least one of them has to be lying, right?” 

The men looked to each other and shrugged, before Harry said, “Yeah.”

(Walk Among Us)  
Give into what you cannot fight  
Walk among us


	36. Hate Breeders

“As you know, Christmas holiday is to start in a week,” McGonagall explained to the four students sitting in chairs before her desk; all bundled up and ready for their trip; listening attentively, and in respectful silence. “In the past two months, you men have impressed me with your ability to get along after your debacle, and neither of you have missed class or detention, so I am going to end your nights of detention for behaving so well.” The students’ faces lit up, which the elder witch expected. She finished,

“And though I am astonished by this request for you all to visit your parents, Draco, I am happy to allow this. Please, do give Narcissa my best.”

()()()()()

The four were all excited about the Headmistress’ decision, and they would have been even more so, if they had not walked to Hogsmeade only to apparate at the gates of Hell.  


The students, all huddling close and standing hand in hand, craned their heads back as they looked up at the tall, stone building that was Azkaban. After arriving, they had meant to break apart from one another, but were unable to once they’d turned to look at the menacing structure; finding comfort in their closeness to each other once the chill of the ocean set in, and the haunting visage reached their eyes.

Even at mid-day, the building looked like a nightmare; to Draco it was. He’d known when they released him that he would have to walk back in to make visits to his parents. However, he’d never thought he’d be standing with his hand in Harry’s, who was holding firmly to Hermione’s. Draco’s hand being in Pansy’s had been expected, and the four of them together was making the anxiety in his soul ease just enough to walk through the newly open gate; the stone parting and gaping ominously in the wall as they approached. 

The Aurors who stood in the two tall watchtowers on either side of the entrance looked down at them in silence as they passed. The Ministry had needed to open a new branch of the Aurors department, and those Aurors now stood guard at the prison; the Ministry having had to accept nearly any applicant who came to join them after the war. The many losses on the Light side had also played a hand in that. Ron Weasley, though an annoying, offensive git, was surely needed. Draco knew who was being held within the walls, and England needed as many willing Aurors as possible.

They made through the outer wall, via the newly opened “door”, and into the hallway. It was dark as they walked the six or seven meters through the near total darkness to the dim light at the end. The blonde knew the room to be the waiting room for visitors and those who wished to pick up a loved one. As luck would have it, this was Azkaban, and the waiting room was poorly attended to; it smelled of mold and rot; every surface- whether it was a chair or a table covered in 100 year old magazines- was covered in dust; water covered the walls, which leaked from unknown sources. There was a sign on the wall that read “Keep Elves Chained at all Times”. 

Hermione sniffed at the old sign, and walked, with a glare on her face, to the window that was closed behind iron bars. There was a golden bell with a chain hanging beside the secretary’s window, and the curly-haired witch rang the bell expectantly. For a moment the four waited in silence, and were very surprised when a young woman, who was smartly dressed with perfectly styled red hair and liberally applied makeup, opened the window with a bright and cheerful smile, saying,

“Good morning! Are you here for visiting?”

The four students both stood still, stunned at the woman behind the window. Draco didn’t recognize her from his last trip to Azkaban- he’d only been in and out once- where he’d been assisted by an elderly, gruff Auror who had been none-too pleased with letting him go. That one instance didn’t make him an expert on the staff they kept.

While Draco relived his memories, Hermione, ever sharp, responded, “Yes. I’m Hermione Granger, this is Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and Pansy Parkinson. We are here to visit Narcissa Malfoy. Draco will be visiting Lucius Malfoy alone.”

Now it was time for the witch behind the window to look shocked, because everyone and their mom knew who Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and the Malfoys were, as well as a great deal of their history together. The witch blinked at them- well, Harry mostly- for a few seconds before she cleared her throat saying with a kind smile,

“I will need to inspect your wands, and I will be keeping them here while you visit. There is a strict “No Magic” policy while on the premises.” she looked back to Harry, then Hermione, “You’ve filled out the Visitor’s form and you’ve been accepted, correct? It was all in the handbook.” She then gave Draco an odd glance, but turned her attention quickly back to Harry, then back to Hermione. 

Then back to Harry. 

“Yes, I read it,” Hermione said as kindly as possible, “and we were accepted. Governor Garne sent us our approvals last week.” The witch nodded at them slowly, with her plastered smile, and stared for a moment before she recovered once more and said, whilst holding out her hand,

“Your wands please.”

The four passed the witch their wands, performed the identity charm to confirm their identities, locked them in a safe behind the desk, and closed the window before leaving the four alone in the never before used waiting room. It felt cold, it felt old, it felt odd... but there were no dementors, so that was good enough. The four sat in almost complete silence for the better part of an hour before the window opened again, standing quickly to return to the counter.

“Governor Garne-“said the witch, “- will be down in just a moment to speak to you all, and lead you to your visit. You’re the first visitors the prison has ever had.” 

The four didn’t know what to think of that last fact, considering they were the first to do a lot of things the past few years, so Draco decided to ignore as he inquired, “Is there a problem?” 

The secretary shook her head, and said, “No. He would like to make your acquaintance. And, of course, give you a few of the guidelines for your visitation. You four are some of our first visitors here at Azkaban since the policy reformation.”

“You mean since the dementors were removed?” Harry answered. The witch gave a shrug, and a nod, and then said, “Garne will be right with you,” and then closed the window with a bright smile.

()()()()()

Fynnard Garne was an extremely tall, elderly, harsh-featured man that had been exceedingly stern with Draco as he had escorted the group to the visitation room. Originally, the plan was that their visit would be held in a room with a clear, magical division, but with a few short, charming, though somehow harsh, words from Hermione, Garne had decided they could visit in a room without a barrier; the inmates un-bound, though closely monitored.

With a frown at Draco, and a smile to Harry and Hermione- he ignored Pansy all together- Garne left them alone in the room. It was empty besides an old, dusty stone table and chairs, and two doors. The small space smelled somehow worse than mold, and it was even darker than the waiting room they’d occupied moments ago. Draco thought that the hallway leading to this point was awful, but the visiting room was even worse!

“I can’t believe they leave this room like this,” Pansy said as she watched Hermione try to wandlessly Scourgify the dirty seats, which did nothing through the magical dampening spell they must have used on the prison. The furniture was filthy, either from laziness, or plain old misuse, no one really knew; or, perhaps, no one knew how clean without magic..?

“I can,” Draco answered in disgust before sitting gingerly on the dusty seat. “You should see the cells.”

“Don’t give me those images, Draco,” Hermione said with a repulsed frown. She was sure that it was only the fact that Narcissa was inside of this place that Hermione suddenly wanted to petition for better facilities for prisoners. Well… one prisoner. There were a few people in there she didn’t give a shite about whether or not they had amenities. 

“Try living in those images,” the blonde muttered, attempting, in vain, to still the pounding of his heart; the tapping of his foot. He’d only been there two months, one week, and a day, but it was long enough for him to know he’d never forget it. He’d been put in before all of the dementors had been removed, and even in the middle of the summer, the rooms had been dark, and gloomy, cold, and stale. When they’d all been banished, it felt no less haunted, nor smelled any less like death, decay and an unpleasantly brisk winter’s day. 

Pansy, noticing the blonde’s anxious jitters, had seen Draco not hours after his homecoming, and she became nervous about visiting the Malfoys since they’d gotten the acceptance letter from Governor Garne. Now, she was even more so due to them being in the belly of the beast. She feared his reaction to seeing his father above all things; knowing that seeing Narcissa would be more healing for her best friend and lover; where Lucius was always a detriment to his son.

For quite some time, the four sat in a silence that filled the room with anxious jitters. Eventually, the door in the room through which they had not entered suddenly opened, starting the four into silence as they went still and turned to watch as Narcissa Malfoy entered the room. At least, they thought it was Narcissa…

The self-assured stance of the Malfoy matriarch had since disappeared from the frail form covered in dirty, mangled rags. The woman who entered was hunched slightly, and her wild, matted hair was already beginning to dread; the platinum locks she once sported now brown and dingy. Her hands and bare feet were covered in what looked like soot and earth, and the only thing that could mark her as Draco’s mother was the tears that reached her sallow, blue eyes when they landed on her son.

“Draco…” she said, as if the stock- still man was an apparition.

“Hello, mum,” Draco replied, before moving forward to hug her.

(Hate Breeders)  
Because you were bred to take it  
Next stop annihilation  
They bred the hate right in your fuckin' bones


	37. Theme For a Jackal

Hermione and Harry were sitting in the waiting room yet again; waiting for their lovers who were now somewhere between visiting Narcissa and Lucius in the visiting room where they’d left them. Draco had, initially, wanted to be alone for his visit with his father, but Pansy hadn’t budged on her stance to stay by his side for both reunions.

Their visit with Narcissa had gone as Hermione had expected, at least. The woman had been over-whelmed by the presence of Hermione and Harry, and after they’d given her their respects, and words of awkward encouragement, they’d gone back to the waiting room, leaving Draco and Pansy to speak with the stunned woman alone.

This had, however, given the Gryffindors plenty of time to talk…

“Did you see what she was wearing?” Hermione asked her boyfriend as they sat on two old chairs, far from the bubbly receptionists closed window, so as not to be heard.

“Yes,” Harry said with a single nod, and a look of disgust on his face. The image of Narcissa looking as... let’s just come and say disturbing… disturbing as she did would haunt Harry for forever.

“Do you think she’s showered since the trial? She looked much better at the trial,” Hermione mused, her mind replaying the short visit with prisoner.

“That was months ago!” Harry said, angry. “Like, four. And I’m pretty sure she hasn’t. They at least haven’t washed her clot… uh… rags?”

“That’s ludicrous! We have to do something, Harry! We have to do something, though… Perhaps we could create some sort of petition, or band some people together and bring our complaints to Shacklebolt and Garne.”

“Before we go off and form another S.P.E.W. or DA,” Hermione lowered her lids at Harry’s words, “let’s think about this for a moment. Who in Merlin’s green hell would join that group besides the four of us?”

“Neville and Luna would.”

“Besides Neville and Luna.”

“Seamus and Dean.”

“Besides those two dafties?!”

“McGonagall.”

“Hm…” Harry thought on his woman’s single word for a few moments, before finally saying, “Ok. Let’s take this to her first.”

()()(*)()()

Draco and Pansy still sat, silent, in the visitation room, waiting for Lucius.

Seeing Narcissa had been harder on Draco than he had imagined. Seeing her dirty, malnourished, and sickly had caused him to go green around the gills, before that gave way into a burning rage so complete that he swore he felt his core temperature flare, and every limb burn white hot.

As a child, Draco had always imagined being a dragon, especially when he flew on his broom. Never had he ever wanted to be one more than that day, when he fantasized about himself burning the Ministry down to pile of ash for condemning his mother to such a life. His beautiful, perfect, loving mother who meant more to him than anything; and she was here, in a total shite hole, looking as if she hadn’t seen water, or the light of day, in months.

To say the least, Draco’s inner dragon was rearing its head, and threatening death by fire, which had only gotten worse some minutes after his mother left; once the second door in the corner of the room opened yet again, and his father entered.

Lucius seemed in much higher spirits than Narcissa. Not only was he smiling easily at Draco, but he seemed to have been eating well, perhaps consuming plenty of water, and he was not nearly as dirty as his wife had been. Instead of an unsteady, distant voice, his father spoke pleasantly as he said,

“Draco, my boy,” the elder wizard walked to his son and embraced him, “It’s wonderful to see you.” Draco returned the hug, out of habit, and stepped back as he let the comparison of the welfare of his two parents. It was almost opposite ends of the spectrum. The only thing that could have altered Lucius’ position would be his freedom. “And Pansy, dear. You look ravishing.” Lucius moved to hug Pansy, who stiffened uncomfortably, she too noticing the immense difference between the Malfoys, and was happy when the elder man let go; her shudder possibly evident, though she wouldn’t care if the wizard noticed.

For Pansy, seeing Narcissa had been heart-breaking; seeing Lucius brought her disgust, because she could only guess why he looked so well.

“You look well, father,” Draco said as he sat back at the table, Pansy and Lucius taking his example.

“I’ve been doing well enough in here, I suppose. There’s not much to do. We mostly sleep, read, or play chess… You look well, too, son. What have you been up to? What is happening beyond these walls?” His father seemed to relaxed, so care free, and Draco wanted to know why.

“I’m back at school-“ Draco started,

“Splendid!” Lucius interrupted.

“- and we’re going to finish this term so that we can get our Masteries in Potions. How is it”- Draco changed his tone- “that you look so well. You aren’t allowed to be sent money here.”

“What makes you ask?” Lucius asked, eyeing his son warily. Draco glared.

“Have you seen mum?” the young Malfoy asked. 

“No… Have you visited her already?”

“Yes. And she looks like she’s withering away, while you look like you’re doing better than “well”. Why haven’t you been taking care of her, too?” Draco asked. 

“Draco,” Lucius said with stern voice, leaning forward over the table so that hot silver and cold silver could clash, “You don’t know how it in here once they release you into the general population. You weren’t here long enough to be allowed out of solitary confinement. Your mother has a target on her back, and I don’t, and that’s the difference between us, Draco. She betrayed the Dark Lord, and everyone in her wants her blood.

“If I speak to her, they’ll kill me.”

“So- let me get this straight.” Draco said as he felt his heat spike yet again. “You mean to tell me that you didn’t ensure the safety and wellbeing of your wife?! You- only looked after yourself?!”

“Draco!” Lucius cut him off, his voice sharp and angry. “You know you’d do the same! Every passing day, there are more and more inmates from our side being locked up. I had to”- Lucius paused- “I had to cut all ties with her.”

For a moment, Draco said nothing as his father’s words sunk in, and then he stood up quickly as he yelled, “”Us”?! “Our side”?! You fucking coward!” Lucius jumped a bit, and his son continued, “You low-life, snake shite, fucking cunt!”

“How dare you-!”Lucius tried to interject, but Draco’s voice was louder, and his wind was longer.

“Oh, bugger off! You’re letting my mother starve so that you can sit around, fat and happy, because you’re afraid you will share her fate?! Well, guess what?! You married her, and you have to share to same fate, arsehole! I don’t know why I thought giving you any of my time would be worth it! I should have never come, because you don’t deserve my time or energy. I’m never visiting you again-“

“Draco!-“Lucius again, but, once again, Draco cut him off.

“No!” The young Malfoy yelled, and the guard started to open the door at the sound of raised voices, “I don’t want to hear from you, and I don’t want to talk to you! You’re going to rot in here for the rest of your days with your “mates”, and I am going to spend time with my new friends, Harry and Hermione.” Lucius’ eyes widened. “We all”- Draco motioned to the silent Pansy, as well as about to infer Harry and Hermione- “just went to see mum, because they are “our side” now, and we’re going to get mum out of here, and leave you where you are.” Draco finished to his father with loathing, “Come on Pansy.”

Draco turned and left with his shocked-into-silence girlfriend, ignoring his father’s cries of indignation, as well as the newly entered Auror, and made down the halls and to the lift back to the waiting room.

Harry and Hermione were still formulating a plan when Draco stormed through the door and up to the receptionist’s window, knocking loudly on the wood rather than ringing the bell. The Gryffindors stood quickly at Draco’s angered, speedy gait, and moved to him while asking him what had him so angry.

“I need to get out of here… before I do something I regret, and I’m not able to come back and see my mum.” Draco answered them as they waited.

The Gryffindors looked to Pansy, who gave them a worrisome shake of her head. Throughout the entire interaction between Draco and Lucius, she’d been silent, and she was glad for it. If she had lost all of the restraint she’d practiced the past months, she would have strangled Lucius with his own hair. To think that she had thought the Malfoys had loved one another. Apparently, Lucius really didn’t love anyone but himself.

In the green-tie witch’s silence, the red-ties knew better than to say anything more as they waited for their wands. Once the bubbly receptionist opened the window, Draco said,  
“I would like my wand back, please. I would also like to you to inform Governor Garne that I will be contacting him within the week.”

“He’ll be out for the next month on Christmas holiday,” the now not-so-bubbly looking woman said with a frown at Draco’s tone. Draco glared at her menacingly, before saying,  
“Please tell him anyway.”

The witch nodded, closed the window, and went to retrieve their wands. Once she’d returned them, she’d quickly closed and locked the door without a farewell, and the four students left Azkaban in an angry silence.

“She was completely standoff-ish just now… What are they hiding?” Hermione said when the stone wall had closed itself back up behind them, and they moved toward the disapparation point.

“They’re hiding the fact that there’s corruption in that hell hole.” Draco sneered; noting himself falling back into the similar feelings of disdain he once felt for his Gryffindor lovers; though, this time, it was towards his own flesh and blood. “While my father sits around, soaking up benefits from taking up with the Death Eaters inside, he’s leaving my mum to starve and die.”

“What?!” The Gryffindor’s shouted, shocked, in unison. They were both instantly angry at the thought of Lucius continuing his selfish acts, even after being severely punished for the prior ones already. 

“Fucking- cunt!” Draco practically yelled as he came to stop in the area they’d arrived in; a flat, rocky, path near the edge of the cliffs.

“Draco,” Harry said as he grabbed the blonde’s arm, speaking loudly over the freezing cold blasts of air from the oceans rage. “Calm down, alright. Hermione and I were already talking about taking this all to Kingsley.”

“I’m sure that bastard already knows what it’s like in there, so what’s the point of talking to that git?” Draco answered. The Gryffindors looked to one another, giving each other knowing looks, looks of agreeance to Draco’s words, before Harry gave the blonde a quick kiss on the cheek, and said,

“Let’s get back to the school. We can talk to McGonagall about how we can go about getting some things changed around here. Hermione and I will start a petition if we have to.”

Draco looked up to Harry with a half-smile, knowing that the raven-haired man was worried about him; knowing that his lovers, with their bleeding bloody hearts, had already started working on a solution for him, because he meant that much to them.

“Alright. Let’s do that,” Draco said with a nod. “I also have a letter to write to a certain Governor.”

(Theme For a Jackal) 

Play you death-song 

You probably listen 

Stand idly by as they rape your children 

Like you do now 

In fact you showed them how


	38. Speak of the Devil

Two days pass wherein our group recovered from their visit to Azkaban, and are able to get back to their lives as normal; the one difference in being that Draco would be writing his mother almost daily from now on, and had sworn off seeing or writing his father for the remainder of their lives.

Presently, our two Heads, if you can recall, are expected to make rounds on Wednesday nights. It is on this Wednesday night that we join Harry and Hermione on patrol, somewhere near the second floor corridor that leads to the stairs.

“I’m glad they’re studying, but I wish they were here.” Hermione said amiably as she and Harry walked up a, presently, moving staircase to the third floor. They’d been on rounds a couple of hours already, and not much had happened. They’d had to stop Peeves from messing with the points meter in the Great Hall, but other than that there’d been nothing. 

“Then stop being so bossy,” Harry said jokingly with a shake of his head and a smirk in his girlfriend’s direction. 

Draco and Pansy were Prefects, so it went without saying that the two were good at doing their homework, but the raven-haired Slytherin usually balked at being told what to do. She didn’t fight Hermione on this, and Harry had found it funny that Pansy had been so cooperative. 

“It’s still very important, Harry. They want to go to University, and I want to be supportive of that in any way that I can,” Hermione replied as they made to the next flight of stairs. “I wish you would go, instead of going right into the Ministry.”

“I told you I’d think about it, ok?” Harry asked. He knew his love would shoot to the moon with excitement if Harry continued his education. Hell, she’d probably cream her knickers, too.

“I know…” Hermione sighed. She hated when she harped at him, but, sometimes, Harry needed to be harped at! She decided to stop, anyway.

For a few minutes they stayed quiet, and eventually, Hermione said in a timid voice, “I- I don’t know how you’ll take this, but I think that it would be fantastic if we all ended up in school together next year, too.” 

Harry raised a brow at his girlfriend as he stopped in his tracks, the stairway continuing to move as she stopped to look back at him. They eyed each other for a moment, before Harry asked,

“You really, really fancy them don’t you?”

“I think- it has more to do with- the “L” word…” was Hermione’s reply. 

“Lesbian?” Harry asked with his eyes widening.

“No!” Hermione said with an exasperated sigh. “The other “L” word!”

“Lesbians?”

“It’s 'love', Harry. I wasn’t trying to trick you...”

“Oh!” Harry was relieved and he smiled up at his girlfriend with a chuckle before saying, “Right! Of course. And,” he moved up the stairs to give her kiss, “I already know you do... and more than just as your friends. You don’t hover over everyone and make them study. At least, not anymore.” Hermione rolled her eyes, and smiled, before giving him another small kiss in return. It was late, and they were alone. They could kiss each other now. 

The Gryffindors had considered telling Ron and Ginny about their relationship further, but it was probably better left unsaid. Ginny was in rough shape, and Ron was no better. The owls they’d received from him the past few weeks had been all about work; the Death Eaters they’d caught, those they were tracking, and the few that had been found dead. He never wrote about how he was feeling, so they’d decided they shouldn’t either. 

Obviously, he was coping, not dealing.

Ginny’s letters were more honest, the witch stating that the trip to Hogsmeade had been difficult for her, and that being so close to Hogwarts had set her back to the night of the battle. However, the letter they’d received a few days ago seemed, to Hermione, that it had helped the younger witch, and the red head’s honesty was helping the brunette write about her feelings about her parents.

Now, Hermione wanted to talk about her feelings for Draco and Pansy, but didn’t know how to go about it. Yes, she knew the green ties cared for them a lot, but they hadn’t said anything about their feelings either. Hermione wasn’t like that. She wore her heart on her sleeve pretty often. People knew her feelings… and she knew the Slytherins knew. The sneaky bastards. Harry, the sneaky bastard, was still her closest friend, and she knew she could tell him because she knew he felt it too.

“I want to tell them I love them,” Hermione said with a flutter in her heart and stomach.

“Have you been thinking about doing this for a while?” Harry asked as the staircase- which they had ridden back and forth along its path- came to another stop, and the two began to walk again.

“Of course! You haven’t? Not even once?” Hermione asked.

“Not necessarily,” Harry said with a scoff. “I wouldn’t tell them that. I think they would both faint… Feelings are hard for them.” Hermione couldn’t fight his logic, having had similar thoughts, so she nodded as she pondered his words.

“I was going to wait for them to break that ice, but I’m positive it’s not going to happen,” she finally said. Hermione might have agreed with Harry’s deduction of their lovers, but that didn’t mean she didn’t think she should chance it.

“When?” Harry asked. She set her face in determination as she said,

“Soon. I waited for Ron to tell me he loved me for too long, when I should have gathered my courage and done something about it myself. I’m not making that mistake again.”

A silence befell them as they walked on, a silence that spanned for many minutes as the two thought on the new adventure they were about to embark upon. Telling the Slytherins they loved them would mean that there was no more denying what they had. They were all together, each one of them with each one of them, and telling them their feelings could make or break that. 

“What if they stop talking to us, though?” Harry asked as they made to the door of the astronomy tower, breaking the tension. Hermione turned to smile at him, and said,

“That is a realistic concern in this situation. But I highly doubt they would. We’ve been through far loonier situations...”

Harry smiled back at her, nodded and said, “You’re right. They’ll be fine.”

()()(*)()()

-Four Days Earlier: Saturday: The day prior to the trip to Azkaban-

“Should we go find them?” Pansy asked Draco for the third time in the past two hours. He glanced up at her, noting that she was looking to the Marauder’s Map sitting on their coffee table; a map that Draco still couldn’t decide was genius, or just plain creepy/stalker shite. Not that Draco had never been the creepy/stalker type before… to the present owner of said map…

That had been a fun conversation that Pansy had cackled, and Hermione had worn a smirk, through. 

“Neither of us have finished our homework, and you know how ‘Mione gets when we don’t,” Draco replied simply as he returned to his textbook. 

No, he didn’t think that his advanced Astronomy homework was more entertaining than his Gryffindors; however, they were going to go see his mum in a few days, and he would take anything to get his mind off of things, even if it meant listening to his Gryffindor girlfriend. 

Dating two women was difficult, and Draco was more than relieved that he had Harry when either of the two was upset at him. The blonde was sure the feeling had to be mutual, even if his boyfriend was more than used to Hermione’s strict academic agenda. No one was sexually punished for skipping out on schoolwork by their Head Girl; that made it no fun at all. Dealing with Pansy was something Draco could do with both legs tied behind his back; adding Hermione into it all made for new experiences.

Hermione mattered a lot to both of the green-ties, and they liked to see her happy; especially since their visit to see her parents. Making Hermione and Harry happy was at the top of their lists at present, and what made their red tie witch happier than anything was studiousness. Before all of this, both Prefects would have told her to kick rocks- beat feet, fly kites- for giving them stipulations and ultimatums. Slytherins don’t like stipulations or ultimatums, unless they’re the ones to give them- but the two green-ties wanted nothing more than to be around their red-ties, and they liked to get what they wanted. Why they wanted to be around them so badly, they still wouldn’t admit to themselves, let alone anyone else.

Not even each other.

“I know…” Pansy said with a sigh, looking back to the Herbology text in her hand. She went back to reading, and a minute or two passed before Draco asked,  
“Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did,” she replied without removing her eyes from her book; not in a snide way, but out of force of habit.

“How do you feel-“ Draco continued without missing a beat, because he knew his girlfriend well enough to have seen her response coming, “- about all of us?”

While staring at Draco’s stone-faced façade- the one he used when he was trying to pretend he wasn’t nervous- Pansy had to take a couple of seconds to realize what he meant. At first, she thought she’d meant their friendship, until her mind clicked.

“Why would you ask me that?” she said with reserve in her voice. She felt her heart beating erratically, and she felt a tingle in her legs, and sweat began to form. The witch knew, by the look on the wizards face, that he was going there!

“Out of curiosity, of course,” Draco replied in a calm voice. He could see his witch cracking under the pressure of a mere implication. He was suddenly happy he didn’t come right out and say what he meant: “Pansy. Do you love them, too, or am I misjudging your mannerisms?”

“I-uh…“ The witch stuttered, and then stopped. 

Draco waited in silence, because he knew that Pansy didn’t “deal”. That wasn’t her thing. Just like “feeling” wasn’t her thing, either. To do so, feel, meant that she would have to face pain; any amount of which would cause her to act out, or perhaps even recoil from those around her.

Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson were not what one would call “loving” parents. They had created her from a sense of duty, like most of her pureblood friends and their kin, including Draco, and finding love in such relationships was rare. Her parents had been betrothed since her mother was born a girl; Pansy’s, then, two-year-old father met his future wife in her cradle. Narcissa and Lucius had had a similar beginning, but many would testify in knowing that the two truly did love each other. 

Unfortunately, Cassius and Rose had not seen a similar ending, and they had instilled their harsh, unfeeling disposition in their daughter. Now, here she sat, gaping at Draco like a Stupified Grindylow because he wanted to know what she thought about their all-too-obvious attachment to their lovers.

“Fine, Pans,” Draco said with a sigh. “I just figured, what with you looking at the map and all, that you’re getting pretty attached to them, as far as you go.” She blinked at him, stayed quiet, and he went on, “All that I, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, your best mate, wanted to know was, what you thought about it. But we don’t have to go there if you don’t want to. Do you want to go find them?” Pansy blinked once more, and then sighed before she shrugged. Then she shook her head in consent.

“Then let’s go,” Draco said before he crossed an ankle over his knee and rested his book in his lap, “after I’ve finished this chapter.”

(Speak of the Devil)

Believers be on guard, be strong and take a stand  
The time of Armageddon's here  
Some call me the son of the morning

Speak of the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a "Scott Pilgrim vs The World" quote in there.


	39. Some Kinda Hate

Just as they did every night the Gryffindors had rounds and they didn’t, Draco and Pansy grabbed the Map to find Hermione and Harry, and left their commons, not minutes after they’d finished their five inch essays. Draco had also written a short recount of the day to his mother, like he had the past few days, though she had not yet written back; neither had Garne, so Draco was beginning to worry a bit. He was going to give it a little more time, a few more days, perhaps, and then if push came to shove he’d start using his immense wealth and vast influence to crush foe after foe until he got what he wanted.

Draco Malfoy, mother fuckers.

“They’re somewhere near the Gryffindor commons… and it seems they’ll be in the Tower pretty soon,” Draco said as he and Pansy walked as swiftly as possible under the Cloak. 

“That sounds perfect. I want to tie those two together and tickle their arses,” Pansy replied with a cackle; peering at the two moving dots that had quickly become her everything.

The green-tie woman hadn’t thought long on the rapid beating of her heart when she was near the red-ties; she didn’t think long on the fact that she pulled to them, drawn to them, like a dragon to gold, nor the fact that the things in her life seemed right when she had her three in bed, doing anything and everything they wanted to each other. She did not think on these things, she blocked them out, she did not deal, and she continued to do so as her feet carried her quickly through corridors, and stairs, and dark hallways, and all of the way up to spiral staircase that led to the Astronomy Tower.

Halfway up, Hermione and Harry began to descend, and the Slytherins took the Cloak off; Draco saying, “Boo,” with a whisper and a grin.

The Gryffindors were not only expecting the Slytherins, but they were used to the two showing up out of nowhere, and even on the first instance of their surprise appearance, the red-ties hardly flinched; having been conditioned over the past seven or so years to react very quickly; the two only needing a second to decide whether the new arrivals were friend or foe.

“Boo to you too, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione replied with a smile.

The four moved either up or down the stairs, and came to stop when they were all face to face… to face to face… Harry asking, “How was homework?”

“It was delightful,” Draco responded in a dry monotone, “We’re done, if you must know. I also wrote to mum, and I’m hoping she’ll reply soon.” 

“She will. And, if she doesn’t, we’ll go and storm whatever castles we need to,” Hermione said conclusively, and with ease, as if she’d stormed a few castles in her day… 

“How were your rounds?” Pansy asked. “Anything interesting happen that we should know about?”

“No,” Harry replied with a shrug, just as Hermione said, “Sort of.” The Gryffindors looked to one another, and the red wizard took a second to remember the conversation he and Hermione had been having not long ago. “Oh,” Harry added, “Right.”

“What is it? What happened?” Draco asked, the green-ties listening intently. The Heads looked to one another again, before Hermione said,

“We should talk somewhere else. Let’s go up to the Tower.”

“Should we really do this there?” Harry asked quickly. Hermione understood his meaning, seeing as the Tower had seen quite enough excitement.

“Do what there?” Pansy asked. She became excited, wondering if her lovers had thought of something new to try “in bed”. 

“Let’s go to our dorm,” Hermione said, and the Slytherins nodded before allowing the Gryffindors to lead the way, covered themselves with the cloak once more, and followed their lovers to their commons. Once the portrait was closed behind them, they took the cloak off, as Hermione said, “We have something we need to tell you both.” The green-ties blinked, before Draco said,

“Okay… What is it?”

It was Harry who said, “We wanted to tell you that we love you both. A lot.” The Slytherins’ eyes widened, and Pansy’s jaw nearly hit the ground. They had just had this conversation a few days ago! She didn’t want to have this conversation! 

“I- love you both, too,” Draco said rather easily. He bit his lip, and gave the Heads a small smile, which they returned, before turning to Pansy. 

“I, uh-“ Pansy was beginning to freeze again, and all she knew was that she had to leave all of a sudden. “I need to go. I can’t do this.” 

As the Gryffindors stared after them, stunned, Draco gave them an apologetic look, passed Harry the map, and made after his green witch who had not bothered with the Cloak in her quick quitting of the commons. He had to run to catch up with her a couple of corridors down, and he put his hand around her wrist to stop her.

“Parkinson! You can’t do this. You can’t leave them like that,” Draco said as he turned the witch around to face him. She pulled her wrist from his grasp, and frowned in anger (which was beyond secondary in this situation) at Draco, ignoring the fact that they were supposed to be quiet when she countered loudly,

“You know I don’t feel that way for them!”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying, Malfoy! I fancy them, yes. I enjoy hanging out with them, I enjoy picking on them, and I enjoy fucking them, but that is all!”

“Liar! You enjoy doing way more than that. Admit that you love them, and stop acting like your bloody mum!”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, liar.”

“Eat shite.”

“Go tell them the truth, Pans!”

“I did, Drake!”

“No you didn’t! You just mumbled something and ran away from them!”

“That seems like enough of an answer for me,” Pansy answered, crossing her arms over her chest and matching Draco’s glare.

“Fine…” he said, knowing he wasn’t going to get through to her in this moment. “I’ll leave you alone about it for now, but you better not ruin this for all of us because you want to pretend you’re a heartless twat.”

“I’m not a heartless twat! It’s just that it’s only been three months, Malfoy! It’s not going to happen that fast for me.”

“How many times do I need to call you a liar?”

“How many times do I need to tell you to eat shite?”

()()(*)()()

“I really thought that was going to end better once Draco admitted it,” Harry said to Hermione as they watched Pansy and Draco’s dots on the map. For a moment, the two dots stood together in a hallway, just before the stairway, and then made their way towards the dungeon; seeing as their rounds didn’t start for another hour at least. At the same moment, the dots of two students walking from the Hufflepuff commons caught Harry’s eye, and he pointed it out to his woman.

With a sigh, Hermione said, “Let’s go get the Hufflepuffs…” Hermione said before sighing and adding, “You know… For a second there, I too thought all of that was going to work out… I should have stuck her to the wall first…”

“Hind sight is twenty-twenty…” Harry said as he stared at the back of the closed portrait for a moment. “Should we go bust the yellow-ties, and then go handle Pansy?”

“No. We’ll handle the Huffs, and leave that snake to her emotional encumbrance. She’ll either come back, or she won’t.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Harry asked

“Then we just ruined our relationship with Pansy Parkinson,” Hermione said in an annoyed, somber tone as they made their way out of the portrait.

““We”..?” Harry asked her with a frown and a lifted brow.

“Yes, “we”!” She snapped back.

(Some Kinda Hate)  
There's some kinda love  
And there's some kinda hate  
The maggots in the eye of love  
Won't copulate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my ringtone for my husband. Lol!


	40. All Hell Breaks Loose

The red ties, who had not spoken to their green ties all day, sat at the end of Hufflepuff table next to Hannah. The Slytherins had decided to sit at the end of their table, their backs to them, though they did not seem to be talking to their housemates. Hannah was explaining to Hermione the reasons why one needed to take Hagrid’s revamped Advanced Creatures course next term when the post came.

“Oi!” Harry said, patting Hermione on the arm, and interrupting Hannah, “It’s Pigwidgeon.” 

The two red ties at the yellow table looked up as Ron’s owl hovered above them, and dropped two letters on the table. One was for Harry, and one was for Hermione, and they seemed to have been written by the two youngest Weasleys. This was not an uncommon occurrence, and so Hermione opened her letter from Ron, while Harry took another bite of his breakfast before reaching for his.

Hermione, being a very fast reader, read the beginning to her letter quickly before knowing exactly what it was Ron wanted to discuss, and she crumbled the single piece of paper between her hands as she closed them, just as her heart began to pound against her ribcage. 

When Harry, a few seconds later, did the same with his own letter, he turned to look at his red tie girl with wide eyes and a fast beating heart.

It had seemed that Harry’s heart had just barely begun to calm itself once breakfast came. He and Hermione had gone to sleep, both brooding, while his mind replayed Pansy’s reaction to their confession. Their Slytherin lovers had not come to visit them that morning, and only Draco had given them a small smile and a nod of his head when they’d entered the Great Hall that morning. Pansy hadn’t even glanced in their direction. But this… the letters from the younger Weasleys… made the beating in his heart louder than any of the chatter around him. 

Not only did the red needs to deal with their greens, but the other Reds, Ron and Ginny, now knew of their four-way relationship. (The two occurrences were in no way connected, by the way.) Hermione hadn’t read enough of the letter to know why Ron knew, seeing as she had only gotten as far as:

"Hermione,

I started to wonder why you and Harry were so distant, and now I know it’s because of Malfoy and Parkinson, and the fact that you’re all shagging each other-"

Hermione said to Harry, in a voice barely above a whisper, without turning to face him, “We need to leave. Act normal.” 

Harry, who had only read the first paragraph of his letter, balled it in his fist before he followed Hermione from the Great Hall with swift steps. A few of the other students found their departure odd, but none so more than Pansy and Draco who had seen Ron’s owl, as well as the way the Gryffindors had reacted to the letters. 

Pansy, who had received a letter of her own, was still feeling put off by the red ties’ admission, but the two Slytherins knew that the letters the Gryffindors had received had been very serious. They weren’t hollowers, seeing as the envelopes were white, but the Heads’ expressions had been enough to know that things weren’t right.

“Go see if they’re alright,” Pansy commanded to Draco as she opened the letter from her mum. The blonde frowned at her with a lifted dark brow. 

“I’ll go if you go,” he responded, knowing that he was going to have to put up a fight to get his green tie woman to talk to their Gryffindors so soon. After they’d left the red ties alone, Pansy had swore and brooded all the way to their commons the night before, with a frown on her face, saying from time to time, “What..? Why..? No… Absolutely not… Fuck!”

“You can’t avoid this, Pansy,” Draco continued as she frowned at him in the middle of reading her letter. It was from her mother, Rose, if the stationary was anything to go by. He could interrupt her. Rose was a loon. “You have to say something to them. You can’t… leave it at ignoring them.” 

Pansy threw the letter on the table, and turned to Draco to whisper with a grimace,

“You know I don’t get attached. I haven’t talked to Daph-” she motioned with her head towards the other green-tie witch, “-in months, and I couldn’t give any more shites. I… I love you,” the woman softened a little at her last words, and then finished, “It doesn’t make sense that I could love them too.”

Draco took in a deep breath, and exhaled loudly, ignoring the loud, anxious beating of the blood in his ears as he said,

“I know that you love them, too. If you do not stand up with me, right now, to go after them and tell them that you love them too, you might as well sleep in your own bed tonight.” The witch flinched at his threat, though she remained silent as her eyes widened and her face colored, while Draco stood to leave. 

The blonde gave the stock still woman a final glance before he walked from the Great Hall and up the stairs. He did not doubt that the Gryffindors had gone back to their rooms for privacy, and it wasn’t until he was outside of the Head’s Dorm that his housemate caught up with him. In silence the Slytherin Prefects looked at one another, conversing without word before standing side by side before to the portrait of the Fountain of Fair Fortune. Sir Luckless, the knight from the old wizarding story, stood guard. He smiled, and opened to them with their needing a password. Luckless had become used to the come and go of the Slytherins, and had not, in fact, run to tell Dumbledore as they’d earlier assumed. 

The Prefects walked into the Head’s common room, where a very angry Head Boy and Girl stood. Harry, who looked rather pale, scowled as he leaned on the arm of the couch, his arms crossed as he faced a crimson, pacing, ranting and raving Hermione:

“… and he is a- a shitey- shite fuck for saying that about you when he is the entire reason we even got close enough to have this relationship in the first place! How dare he stoop so low! That sodding prick! Pansy and I should have gone and found that git when we first thought of it, because, now, I might have to go find the both of them and knock their sodding, senseless heads together!” As this came to an end, the Head Girl seemed to notice the newly arrived Slytherins; she paused in her pacing to look to the Prefects with a glare, and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Are we not allowed in here anymore? And who are you calling senseless, you over-bearing snatch?” Pansy asked with a sneer. Draco wanted to say something regarding her snide tone and words, but decided against it since Hermione had started it.

“I was under the impression that you didn’t want to be here,” Hermione answered. “You stopped talking to us, remember?”

“Is that why you’re up here throwing a fit, and threatening the Weasel and me? Because I didn’t say I love you back?”

“Either you’re really vain, or you’re daft, as well! My anger has nothing to do with you! If you must know, Ron and Ginny found out about us, and they somehow managed to keep from sending us howlers, but it really didn’t matter, because they said the most… disrespectful, hurtful- horrible things! About all of us, and I…” she paused, and the Slytherins, who had softened once they’d been told about the contents of the letters, waited for her to finish. But, she didn’t, instead resumed her pacing as she swore under her breath, and, quite literally, blew steam from her ears that sent her curly hair flying about the sides of her head.

Harry continued for her, “He says that he was told by one of the guards at Azkaban that we showed up, and that Draco and I were holding hands. I guess he connected the dots, and Ginny asked Luna, who told her that they needed talk to us about all of that, which led them to believe that there was some truth to it all... But I’m curious. Why are you both here?”

“What?” Pansy began with a raised voice, ignoring Harry’s last question. “I want to know why Looney didn’t give us the heads up on this! That’s it. I’m spanking that tart.” The green-tie witch turned to leave, but Draco grabbed her by the upper arm, turned her back around, and pushed her further into the room towards their lovers.

“We can deal with her, normally, later, Pans. You have something to say to these two, don’t you?” Draco asked the other Prefect, who sighed and put the thought of handling the blue-tie aside. She turned her brown eyes to the reds, who looked at her expectantly, and gave a loud sigh.

“I- I shouldn’t have left last night… I should have told you that- that… that I feel the same way as you both do, and stayed,” Pansy struggled to say. 

“You feel the same way?” Harry asked, with a lifted brow.

“How is it that you feel, exactly, Pansy?” Hermione asked, crossing her arms under her breasts, crumbling the letter that she still held in her hand. 

“You know…” Pansy said, exasperated. She knew they fucking knew! They were just trying to make her say it!

“She loves you. Both of you. The feeling is mutual, ok?” Draco answered for her.

“Does she?” Hermione asked, still haughty. Pansy lowered her lids at her woman for a moment, saying defiantly,

“Yes, it’s mutual! I love you, too.”

(All Hell Breaks Loose)  
And all hell breaks loose  
Yea, my heart is a-breaking loose  
Yea, my whole world's breaking loose  
Yea, and evil is as does and who  
Yea, but who but me could write this book of cruel


End file.
